


Life Changes (Like the Shoreline of the Sea)

by rosemeetsdagger



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: And Harry and Louis have to raise a baby together, Angst, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst with a Happy Ending, Basically there's an accident, Drug Use, Eleanor has more screentime actually, Eventual Smut, Happy Ending, Inspired by a Movie, M/M, Major Character Death(s), More angst, Not so much Ziam, Sharing a Bed, or niall, sorry about that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-09
Updated: 2018-03-01
Packaged: 2018-08-07 15:35:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 16
Words: 70,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7720264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosemeetsdagger/pseuds/rosemeetsdagger
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry and Louis hate each other. Well, perhaps hate isn't the right word. Abhor? Detest? Loathe? Let's just say they don't get along.</p><p>After a disastrous first blind date, the only things Harry Styles and Louis Tomlinson have in common with are mutual dislike towards each other and love for their goddaughter, Isabella. That is, until a fateful incident causes them to raise her as their child together. Oh, and it means they'll have to deal with each other. Every day. In the same house. For the rest of their lives.</p><p>Did I mention they hate each other?</p><p>[Louis and Harry take care of their goddaughter as a dysfunctional family. They don't get along.]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Don't Be So Cold, We Could Be Fire

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [Life Changes (Like the Shoreline of the Sea)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8641705) by [malishka1011](https://archiveofourown.org/users/malishka1011/pseuds/malishka1011)



> Title comes from the song Hey, That's No Way To Say Goodbye by Roberta Flack. This is my rendition of the movie Life as We Know It so if you've seen it, then you pretty much get the gist of the plotline. (Don't spoil it for others). Disclaimer: This is a work of complete fiction. None of this is real, nor did it happen. Although, I do wish Louis would give Harry a baby already.
> 
> Also, I apologize if you find any mistakes since this story is Beta less. Sad Emoji. I hope you have a great time and please leave your sincere comments, this was my first go at writing a serious fic that involved more fluff than smut.
> 
> Enjoy!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Louis and Harry hate each other. Well, perhaps hate isn't the right word. Abhor? Detest? Loathe? Let's just say they don't get along.
> 
> After a disastrous first blind date, the only things Louis Tomlinson and Harry Styles have in common are mutual dislike towards each other and love for their goddaughter Isabella. Until a fateful incident forces Louis and Harry to raise Isabella as their child together. It means they'll have to deal with each other. Every day. In the same house. For the rest of their lives.
> 
> Did I mention they hate each other?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title comes from the song Hey That's No Way To Say Goodbye by Roberta Flack. This is my rendition of the movie Life As We Know It so if you've seen it, then you pretty much get the gist of the plotline. (Don't spoil it for others.)
> 
> DISCLAIMER: This is a work of complete fiction. None of this is real, nor did it happen. Similarities between characters and real people are purely coincidental. Although I do wish Louis would give Harry a baby already. 
> 
> I hope you have a fun read and please leave your sincere comments, this was my first go at writing a serious fic that involved more fluff than smut.
> 
> Enjoy!

* * *

Fingers flitted over every type of expensive material in order to find the perfect date ensemble. Harry had an extensive collection of Burberry, Yves Saint Laurent and Gucci outfits that he only pulled out on special occasions. Well, sort of special. Harry was having his first date in three years and he needed an outfit to stupor. Unfortunately, Zayn hardly informed him about his date, but Harry knew first impressions counted a lot. Harry didn't have a second chance to make a lasting first impression.

Harry's eyes scanned over the tiny hands of the clock, noting one hour had passed by of him lounging around and getting antsy. Hot air blew out of his puffed lips. Harry leaned back in the plush sofa and tried to think of happy, relaxing thoughts.

Harry picked up a  _Men's Health_ magazine and flipped the crisp pages, his eyes never leaving the time on the clock for too long. His dress shoe looked scuffed. He frowned and leaned down, the underside of his wrist wiping the smudge clean.

Harry's patience was wearing thin, the crease on his forehead becoming more prominent with every minute that ticked by. Clean fingernails tapped the open magazine with impatience, his forehead crinkling with more stress wrinkles.

Harry crossed his leg, bouncing it up and down in the air as time passed by. He was ready to call it a night when the sound of knocking interrupted his thoughts. He sighed deeply and stood up with a small grunt, his long legs extending across the polished wooden floor. He pulled open the door with a smile plastered to his face.

"Hey," both men said at the same time.

"Harry."

"Louis."

Louis was—Louis was... _so_ —Louis was... _Louis_. He was beautiful in ways Harry couldn't have ever imagined; all tan skin and sharp blue eyes. He was skinny but had the perfect amount of curve to his small, lithe body. He was covered in tattoos and sparse chest hair and suddenly Harry couldn't look at him anymore. Harry blamed it on his dry spell of the century. He was attracted to him right off the bat because Louis was a hot human being. That was it. It was purely sexual and nothing more.

_(Harry had to remind himself not to let his sexual predatory feelings towards Louis distract him from how rudely late he was.)_

"Tommo," Louis corrected.

"Tommo?" Harry arched an eyebrow.

"Tommo. Yeah, everybody, everybody calls me Tommo."

_(Okay?)_

"Okay. Well, it's finally nice to meet you, Tommo."

"Am I late?"

Louis' blue eyes scanned around the vast, dimly lit living room.

"Um, just an hour, but you know..." Harry looked behind himself, cringing at the half-empty wine bottle that was wedged between the sofa cushions. He turned back to look at Louis' blank face with his eyebrows arched. "I just finished getting ready and Zayn said it was your MO so."

Louis rolled his eyes, fixing the Vans cap on top of his messy fringe.

"Liam said you would probably say something."

"Oh, did he? Oh, okay." Harry's voice lifted higher on an octave, his smile fake and poised on his smiling cheeks. "Cool."

Awkward silence filled the air, Louis shifting his weight on one foot and the other while Harry stared dumbly at his narrow chest.

"Should we go?"

Harry hoped it was enough to lift the stiff tension enveloping them.

"Yeah, yeah. Let's go."

Louis turned his body around, already walking down the cobblestone pavement without waiting for Harry.

"Yeah, let's get some dinner. I'm super hungry. It's been like an hour," Harry hissed under his breath, shutting the door behind himself with more force than intended.

Louis and Harry walked side by side together, Louis' feet padding a few more steps ahead of Harry. The night was beautiful, the streets were deserted and the stars twinkled bright above them. Even if Harry was a little ticked off, he was sure Louis could make up for it over dinner. He was almost positive they would laugh and joke amid conversation, maybe even outstretch their hands just for the sake to touch. If he got lucky, he would be able to press Louis up against his car, desperately mouthing on every inch of skin and dig his fingers onto Louis' hips. Surely, Louis would make up for it.  _Right?_

"So I heard you just moved to London from Doncaster."

Harry tried to converse, desperate to have idle talk instead of undergoing the awkwardness again. He could make easy conversation at the snap of his fingers.

"Yup."

_Wow. Louis was not making a conscious effort._

"Oh. How long have you known Liam for?"

"Secondary school."

Okay, alright, Harry needed to call in his reinforcements to force the enthusiasm out of Louis with pliers.

"Oh, wow," Harry said lamely.

Louis opened the gate for Harry, allowing him to walk through first.

"Thank you."

Harry added  _Not Complete Arsehole_  to his mental list of Louis' qualities, along with bitable collarbones, firm arse, unkempt scruff and disheveled hair.

The stark difference between Louis and Harry was immeasurable. While Harry was dressed in a Yves Saint Laurent green crushed velvet suit with a black button up underneath and bespoke Ripon boots, Louis was drastically underdressed. A black tank top draped over Louis' torso, the large gaps of his oversized sleeves allowing Harry to see his lower ribs. Harry's eyes traveled down Louis' black skintight jeans and visibly swallowed at the sight of his thick thighs. His imagination ran wild with the endless ways Louis could hold him down, trapping him between the deliciously suffocating grip of his thighs. Even with his casual outfit, Louis admittedly looked better than Harry with all of his formal attire combined.

"I've known Zayn since uni. We were in a fraternity together," Harry said belatedly. He glanced away from the curves of Louis' feline body, taking a few more steps towards the street and looking for any new car parked on the curb. "Where's your car?"

"Right here." Louis picked up a helmet from the motorcycle's seat and handed it over to Harry. "Here you go."

_Wow. How did Harry ever miss that?_

"Oh."

Baffled, Harry took the helmet from Louis' delicate fingers.

"C'mon."

Louis swung his leg over the seat, his feet settling on the floor and his hands gripping the handles. Nerves fluttered up and down Harry's spine when the motorcycle came to life with a jolt. With a shit-eating grin, Louis' eyes sparked with devilry.

"Hold on tight. I promise I won't read into it."

Harry panicked immediately, sweat turning his body frigid in an instant.

"I'm not really dressed...for forty mile-an-hour..."

"What?"

Louis furrowed his eyebrows together, straining his voice to be heard over the loud engine of the motorcycle.

"I'm not really dressed for forty mile—" Harry's voice pitched higher at the same time the engine was killed. He breathed heavily through his nostrils, his voice regaining its usual smoothness. "An hour winds," he managed to squeak out.

Louis' jaw dropped. He turned off the ignition and angled his body towards Harry.

Harry couldn't help the bubble of nervous laughter that escaped his mouth. "Sorry. I just...you know, I don't think I can even get my leg up over. So..." Idiotically, he demonstrated by raising his leg so high he almost lost balance. He planted both feet on the solid ground, a smile threatening to split across his face. "But I'll drive."

Harry handed back the helmet happily, relishing in the confused look etching across Louis' face.

"My car's right here. And it's new, so I love driving it," Harry said as he thumbed in the direction of his brand new Kia Fiat.

It was small,  _yes_ , and maybe Harry's lanky legs could barely fit in the cramped space, but it was all he could afford at the time being and it was  _his_ , so what? As long as Harry didn't have to take a road trip in which he'd have to be stuck inside for long hours without an end in sight, then he had nothing to worry about.

"It's a sweet ride," Louis muttered, his eyes squinting as he scratched the top of his head.

"Thanks." Harry walked over to his new ride and slid right in, prompting for Louis to do the same. "Hop in!"

With uncertain steps, Louis made his way to the passenger's side of the small vehicle and attempted to seat himself in. That didn't happen. What Louis was met with instead was his body slouching, his shoulders tense in a stiff line and his knees bumping into the glove compartment. One could only imagine how Harry was doing.

Louis struggled to get comfortable, the plush leather seats groaning in protest from every minuscule movement. Harry resisted the urge to break out into cackles because the look on Louis' face was a mix between an undignified cat being thrown in a bath and horrified at finding nan in her birthday suit.

The moment slowed and stretched, Harry staring at Louis with one raised intrigued eyebrow. Finally, after what seemed like hours but could only be mere seconds, Louis shifted in his seat to take a better look at Harry.

"Alright. So where shall we go?" Louis clasped his hands together.

"Um, where did you make the reservations that you said you were gonna make?" Harry looked from the steady rising and falling of Louis' chest to the dumbfounded look on his face. When Louis made no move to answer, appalled realization dawned on Harry. "You didn't make them?"

"I said that?" Louis narrowed his eyes, the blue in his eyes enriched by his dark pupils.

"It's cool. Whatever."

Harry tried to play it off, the throbbing in his temples beginning to grow stronger with every disappointing word that spilled from Louis' mouth.

"Yeah, it's cool. We can go anywhere, I don't care. We can, uh, you pick it. You pick it. We'll just—we'll grab a table and we'll slide right in," Louis spoke nonchalantly, spewing nonsense.

Louis seemed unaware that it was nearly impossible to get a table at any restaurant on a Saturday night without calling for a reservation prior.  _The beautiful idiot._ Thankfully, Harry had kind enough friends from university who could work something out for him in desperate times of need.

"Okay. Um. Well, how about Café Five? You ever been there? My friend from culinary school is the, uh—" Harry's words were cut off by the disruptive sound coming from Louis' ringing phone.

Nicki Minaj's _Anaconda_  song blared loudly in the interior of the car, cutting the silence sharper than a knife. Harry's mouth turned agape. Harry quickly shut it closed to swallow down his choked retorts.

Louis looked down at the muted light in his trousers. "It's just my phone."

"I figured. You can answer it if you..."

Harry's smile faltered momentarily before he composed his features into a tight-lipped smile.

 _Chill_. Harry could just remain chill and he wouldn't get the urge to reach over and smack Louis across the cheek. Besides, it was his first date in three years. Three years of telling himself he was going to be okay, that it was perfectly fine.  _Sure_ , Harry's fiancé had left him a month before the wedding and,  _sure_ , he had cried for months to Celine Dion's  _My Heart Will Go On_  soundtrack but Harry was—he was... _fuck, what was his point again?_

"No, go ahead. It'll go to voicemail."

Louis nodded, pressing his lips together and looking out of the windshield to avoid Harry's curious gaze.

"Okay, yeah. Um, well, I was just saying my friend from culinary school was actually the, um..."

 _My anaconda don't want none unless you got buns, hun_  finished Harry's sentence for him.

Harry's hands fell limp to his lap in defeat. He hoped the practiced smile on his face didn't turn out to look more like a grimace.

"You know what? Go ahead. Just answer it. It's fine. I'm—I can wait."

Louis didn't hesitate for one second before he fished his ringing phone out of his pocket. He looked at the caller ID and looked over to Harry quickly before answering the call. Harry fiddled his thumbs together, noticing Louis' voice was pitched low enough to be disguised as a whisper.

"Hey,  _you._  Well, you know me, always in the middle of something." Louis grinned stupidly with his phone pressed hotly to his ear, his fingers twitching on his lap. "Yeah, okay, yeah. Eleven? Yeah. You know what?" He glanced at Harry who was pouting and staring at a fixed point in his vision. "Why don't we make it 10:30? Alright? Alright, later."

Harry looked to his right, a combination of amusement and disbelief licking his features.

"I'm sorry it's a...it's a sick friend," Louis apologized, although by the look in his eyes, Harry wasn't so sure his apology was sincere.

"You know..." Harry shook his head, slick strands of hair falling into his eyes. "We don't have to do this."

"Really?" Louis cocked his head, his fingertips quick to reach for the door handle. "Okay."

 _Wait, what?_ Harry took a moment to process Louis' inability to protest, the car door already cracked open enough for a cool breeze to filter through.

"Oh my God. Are you serious?"

It was Harry's turn to drop his jaw open, his eyebrows raised to his hairline.

"Okay, let's be honest. You knew the moment I talked you didn't like me," Louis stated with one curved, roguish eyebrow, closing the car door shut.

Harry threw Louis a grateful look for closing the car door considering the cold made his nipples sensitive and he didn't think pebbled nubs made him appear any more threatening than what he was aiming for. Which reminded him of the current Louis Situation, Harry schooling his face back into a frown.

"No, but our mutual friends set this up so I think we owe it to them to—"

Louis cut Harry off before he even had a chance to finish his thought,  _the wanker._ Maybe Louis  _was_  a  _Total Complete Arsehole_. Harry's judgement was wrong some of the few times.

"To what? To spend a few hours faking small talk?" In a teasing drawl, Louis whispered, "Look, best case, we get drunk and we hook up."

Harry's judgement was far from being right.

"What kind of an arsehole  _are_  you?" Harry voiced his thoughts out loud, his chest heaving up and down with each sharp intake of breath.

"Look, it's a Saturday night. I just want to have some fun, alright? I can go see my sick friend and you can go do...whatever it is you like to do on a Saturday night. You look like you read. You can go read a book. You blog?"

"Do I blog?" Harry mocked Louis, his voice slowed down to a deep drawl.

Louis opened and closed his mouth a few times. Probably because anything else that was threatening to come out of his mouth was sure to guarantee a Very Angry Harry. For Louis' sake, he wouldn't want to see that side of Harry. Harry was charming most of the time, but once he was on edge he couldn't help the hurtful words that hurled out of his mouth even if it was towards those that were only trying to help. The Reckless and Cornered Animal Phase is what Harry called it.

"Okay, you know what?" Harry slammed his fists on the steering wheel, turning his body to fully face the twat assessed in front of him. "You wanted to ensure that this wasn't gonna be a lousy night? Here's a tip: Don't show up an hour late and don't make a booty call in front of me!"

"He's sick!" Louis defended weakly.

"Oh, right," Harry scoffed and rolled his eyes. "Were you going to heal him with your  _magic penis?"_

"Okay. Fine." Louis sucked in a breath, exhaling a painful sigh. "If you want to go out, we can go out."

 _Was he being fucking serious right now?_ Harry was two seconds away from tearing out his own hair and choking Louis with it. Lord knew it was long enough to wrap around Louis' dainty neck.

"Oh my God. No! I'm not going out with you now."

Harry opened the door with enough strength to unhinge it off. Slamming the car door shut, he stalked off in a fury, his fists clenched tightly by his sides.

"What are you,  _crazy?_ Get out of my car! Get out of my  _smart_  car!"

Harry's rapid footsteps retraced back to his flat, the gravel under Louis' feet crunching as he stepped foot out of the car. He hugged his arms to himself, the bitterness of the night seeping into his bones. Besides the chill of the winter wind, his body was on fire. Louis had riled Harry enough that his hands were sweating, long strands of his hair sticking to the nape of his neck.

"I don't know what Zayn and Liam were thinking!"

As Harry stomped back to his flat, Louis' voice bellowed into a faint shout, shooting back, "Yeah, me neither!"

Harry wiggled his fingers inside his suit to retrieve his phone. He tapped Zayn's number that he already had on speed dial and pressed the phone to his ear. As soon as the call picked up, words tumbled out of his mouth in a rush.

"Zayn, oh my God, the only way you can make this up to me is if you promise me I never have to see him again."

Harry wondered why Zayn and Liam ever thought Louis and he would make a match made in heaven considering they were complete opposites. If anything, they were a match made in hell.

In the distance, Louis' motorcycle roared to life, the tires screeching off into the night.  _He_ _could_ _go fuck off, really._ Harry reached the front door of his flat, struggling to take out the keys in his pocket with his other hand occupied holding the phone. He twisted the key inside the lock and pressed his solid weight against the door to haul it open. With Zayn chatting in his ear and the sudden wave of heat hitting him square in the chest, Harry felt a bit better looking at his flat that welcomed him.

Zayn had warned Harry beforehand. He specifically told him not to get his hopes up too high or else he would be utterly chagrined. And still, Harry hadn't listened.

Harry would never forgive himself at how idiotic he had been for sketching plans in his head in different approaches to kiss Louis. He had been so young, so foolish.

The last thing Harry thought before he undressed and crashed into bed naked was  _what a waste of a fantastic Yves Saint Laurent suit._

*

Long tables were covered with tablecloths in colors of creamsicle and golden hues. Thanks to Harry, every table was set up with beautiful edible ornaments and five course meals that had even the most primp of people licking their fingers. Zayn and Liam were having their wedding reception venue in a vast dining room hall with their friends and family joining them for a celebration of love.

Harry's shaky voice was heard over the microphone. The best man toast was a promise of a practiced speech brimmed to the top with tears.

"Really, Zayn, you are like the most important man in my life...you are the brother I never had. And I love you so much and I am so grateful for you and Liam—"

Liam's loud, disruptive cackles stopped Harry from mewling out the last words. Well, Harry wasn't even halfway done yet, but,  _still_. Zayn nudged him in the ribs to keep quiet and Liam made a show of pointing to something across the end of the dining hall that rudely interrupted Harry's grandiose speech.

"Look at Tommo! In the back!"

Harry followed Liam's line of vision until his eyes were met with a bloody sight. There, against the wall and nowhere near subtle, was Louis pressed to another man, their sweaty bodies flushed together and ravishing their faces off.  _It was sloppy and disgusting and unethical. God, they were ruining the best man speech for Christ's sake!_ Harry made a noise of disgust when the man's hands trailed down to grab a handful of Louis' arse, squeezing the supple flesh between his meaty palms.

Louis noticed the absence of Harry sobbing into the microphone and turned around, an unabashed smile stretching from ear to ear. His mouth was red and ridiculously obscene, his shirttails tucked out of his trousers and his hair sticking out in odd, different directions. Harry didn't know who looked worse, Louis with hickeys mapped out on his neck or himself with the look of scandal spreading across his face.

Slowly, people started clapping loudly all around them which earned a brighter smile on Louis' face and even a, "Get it Tomlinson!" from someone near.

Similar to a champ, Louis raised both of his arms into the air for a victorious pump of his fists.

"Yeah!"

"Anyways."

Harry tried to redirect the attention back to himself who was much more important on a grander scale.  _Obviously_.

"I was just trying to say how excited I am for you—"

Louis' body crashed with Harry's, his hands closing in to steal away the microphone.

"I love you! Zayn—"

"Tommo, it's my turn!"

Harry shoved Louis' tequila-sticky body away, pressing one hand on Louis' face while Louis licked Harry's palm in response.

"My turn! You already gave your speech!"

*

All the men were aligned next to each other, the dewy grass green and wet beneath their black polished shoes. They were dressed simple. Black suits adorned their white collared shirts and red peonies were attached to their front lapels. The photographer was ready to take their picture, his eyebrows threading together as he approached them.

"Are you the best man?"

The photographer pointed to Harry who nodded back at him.

"Yes?"

"Can we switch you guys out? I need you next to the groom. Zayn preferably."

"Okay."

Hastily, Harry switched positions with Niall and took his spot in between Zayn and Louis.

_Of. Fucking. Course._

"Get right in here with you guys."

A nervous chuckle escaped Harry's lips. Harry swallowed past the hard lump that formed inside his throat every time he was in a close proximity to Louis.

Harry had entirely given up on avoiding Louis like how he had planned to do so that fateful night they met. It was as if the more he pushed Louis away, the more Louis would come closer, all puppy eyes and false innocence. But Louis was everywhere. He was in Zayn's and Liam's life and took over every single aspect of Harry's life too,  _the_   _bastard_ , Harry didn't remember him ever asking for permission. He was there when they had lads night for Liam's weekend movie marathons. He was there when Zayn fractured his ankle and was rushed to the hospital center. He was even there when they scared an unsuspecting Harry at his own flat for a surprise birthday party.

Harry didn't remember how or when it happened, but Louis was everywhere he was. Before, it had always been Zayn, Liam and their friend Harry. Then it became Zayn, Liam and their friends Harry and Louis. And for some strange reason that Harry still couldn't comprehend to this day, it was suddenly Zayn and Liam  _and_  Harry and Louis closed off into two separate groups, trapped in their own bubbles.

Harry was starting to suspect that their friends only pushed them towards each other to get a reaction out of him and it had worked, countless times over. Then it just became familiar,  _comfortable_ , and he didn't remember—couldn't pinpoint a day where he minded Louis being so close to him, Louis' hands on Harry's hips and no sense of personal space. Louis was always just there and Harry well, he had gotten used to it. Harry had felt...safe.  _Secured._

Harry stumbled forward when he felt Louis squeeze his bum, immediately whipping around to push him backwards.

And,  _right_ , Harry had forgotten, Louis was also an outright dick that knew nothing of boundaries. Harry also had to tolerate that cheeky little shit.

"Don't touch me! I knew you were gonna do that! Don't touch me!"

Harry continuously shoved Louis farther away from him, Louis' eyes crinkling with every raspy laugh he exhaled. The men around them laughed, Niall doubling over in a fit of uncontrollable cackles.

" _Don't_ encourage him."

Harry faced forward again and readjusted his trousers back to where they rightfully once were. He grinned meekly at the photographer, who was too busy looking at a point behind him. He was about to ask him what he was staring at until he felt Louis' curious hand pinch his bum again. He should have known better than to let his guard down. Honestly, Louis was a tiny man-child.

As quickly as Harry faced ahead, he turned back around and smacked Louis hard on the chest with more force than necessary.

"Stop it, I swear to God! Stop it. Stop! I'm sorry, I can't stand next to him."

Harry switched positions again with Niall and caught a glimpse of Louis and Liam high-fiving. He swore Louis influenced Liam.

Louis looked back to Harry and smiled in a way that made Harry's insides feel squeamish. He winked at him, Harry biting the inside of his cheek, the sounds of their laughing friends in the background drowning in his ears.

And if Harry convinced himself that his cheeks burned purely from humiliation and nothing else, then that was that.

*

"Hey, guys, we're here at the holiday party. Harry, Nick, how've you been?"

Liam hoisted up the camera higher in his hands, Harry adjusting the star on top of the Christmas tree and climbing down the last step of the ladder with Nick's helpful hand.

Once Harry got to the bottom on slightly unsteady feet, Nick offered him a crystal glass of Merlot to which he accepted gratefully. He needed all the liquor that he could get his hands on tonight.

"How's that first date going, guys?"

Harry smiled crookedly, waving Liam off with a dismissive hand. Liam obliged to walk towards the hallway. He zoomed the video in on Louis talking in a hushed tone to the fit waiter in a skimpy costume, his fingertips walking across the waiter's leg up to his inner thigh.

On a vague sense, Liam could understand Louis' urge to touch the waiter's flexing biceps and strong, muscled thighs. The waiter  _was_  only wearing tight black trousers, a red bowtie wrapped around his neck and antlers with bells that jingled every time he as so much moved his head. Oh, and there was also the fact that he was shirtless, his tan skin glowing underneath the golden hues the Christmas lights gave off.  _So that was that._

"Um, yo, dude, he has work to do."

Louis distractedly looked at Liam, narrowing his eyes as soon as he caught sight of the camera and already reaching for it.

"Hey, don't call me dude,  _dude_. Give me the camera."

The video blurred for a bit in what could only be an exchange of Louis tearing the camera away from Liam's overprotective hands. The video cleared as Louis refocused it on Liam. Liam gestured Louis to follow him towards Zayn.

"Come, bun in the oven. Well,  _sorta_ ," Liam cheered happily, offering two thumbs up to the camera and Louis.

When they approached Zayn, he had just finished talking to the other guests. Zayn caught a glimpse of Liam out of his peripheral vision and excused himself immediately. He smiled at Liam, swooping an arm around his waist while Liam broke out into a sunny smile. After a few moments of staring dopily at each other and lost in trance, Louis coughed impatiently. It was ridiculous how smitten they were for each other.

Liam blushed and reached behind himself to retrieve a manila folder among other loose sheafs of paper, the front of the folder titled  **Adoption Papers** in black bold letters.  _Ah_.

"Well, well, well. Won't you look at that?" Louis murmured behind the camera.

Liam flipped open the folder to a photograph of a newborn baby wrapped in a pink blanket.

"My daughter," Liam cooed.

Zayn ducked his head and thumbed the picture, glancing up to lock eyes with Liam. Liam looked only a few seconds away from breaking out into cheers or tears. Maybe both.

"Won't be long now."

Even with Liam not looking up, he could still hear Louis' smile translated in his voice.

Louis left Liam and Zayn fonding over the baby picture and walked towards a distressed-looking Harry standing around with his short-term boyfriend Nick Grimshaw. Short-term as in impossibly short,  _a day to be exact_ , and Louis was not going to let Harry go unharassed for the night.  _Especially_  not on Louis' birthday. Louis took it with the most serious responsibility he could muster in all of his twenty three years of life to make Harry's life miserable only in the best ways possible.

Harry blew hot air out of his stressed-bitten lips, appearing bored out of his mind.

"Hey, Harry! What's this?"

Louis angled the camera towards the mistletoe hanging off the ceiling and jingled the plant between his nimble fingers. Harry made a face at Louis, a beautiful mix between _'why are you talking to me'_  and  _'fuck right off.'_ It only prompted Louis to smirk wider. He persistently shook the mistletoe in front of their faces.

"C'mon, just a little Christmas kiss. Just give him—"

Nick leaned forward and Harry looked at him strangely, moving back slightly. Harry turned away from Nick's puckered lips at the last second, causing Nick to completely miss Harry's mouth and kiss him behind the ear instead.

"Great. Yay! Happy holidays," Harry cheered sarcastically.

Harry lifted his glass of wine and downed it in one go, mouthing to Louis, "You are an arsehole."

'Twas the season of flipping off boys with squinted green eyes, the corners of Louis' mouth tilting up for a knowing grin.

Before midnight, Harry texted Louis: **Have Yourself A Merry Horrid Christmas** with a poop Emoji.

Louis smiled down at his phone, licking his lips to wet them before thumbing back his response.

_You know what would be the best Christmas/birthday present? Your nudes ;)_

**Ugh, you're disgusting**

Not a full minute passed by until his phone vibrated again, Louis smiling bigger at the tiny words displaying on the screen.

**P.S. Happy birthday ya filthy animal x**


	2. Don't Try To Fight The Feeling 'Cause The Thought Alone Is Killing Me Right Now

* * *

"Hi, baby girl. Hi, Isabella."

Louis cradled Isabella in his arms, Isabella's wide brown eyes looking up at him in wonder.

After the whole extravaganza of celebration and nerves piling up with Zayn's and Liam's first child, they had gotten Isabella settled down enough that she was familiar with her surroundings and a lot, lot, lot less crying. They figured it was as good time as any to invite the two lads over considering Isabella was behaving and acting like an angel this past week. Harry and Louis though...weren't quite up to par yet.

Harry pinched his bottom lip between his thumb and index finger, inching closer and making a move to grab Isabella.

"Hold on, Harry, I just got her. She's with Uncle Tommo now," Louis scolded, his soft blue eyes clouding just by looking at Harry.

" _Pal_."

"Fine." Louis rolled his eyes in an exaggerated fashion and gave in to Harry's protests. "Careful, Harry.  _Gently_ ," he warned as he tentatively placed Isabella in Harry's arms.

Whereas Louis was holding Isabella like she was fine china that costed a fortune, Harry was pressing her tightly to his chest, all snug and warm and tucked in. Louis tried not to think how good Harry looked with a baby wrapped to his chest.

"I got her. I got her," Harry sighed contently.

Louis' breathing regained into even, deep breaths that was until Harry fake dropped Isabella to the floor, his dimples deepening with mischief.

"Woah!"

"Harry."

Louis pinched the bridge of his nose, his other hand propping on his hip.

_Jesus, Harry was this close to giving him a heart attack._

Harry outdid Louis' dramatic gesture with an innocent bat of his eyelashes, bright green eyes peeking through. Honestly, who the hell gave him the right to do hellish things and get away with it with one endearing look?  _It was fucking inconsiderate is what it was._

Liam laughed right alongside Harry's breathy chuckles. Louis looked towards Zayn whose expression was mortified and worried. For once, Louis sided with Zayn on this.

"Babe." Exasperation hid in Zayn's voice, Zayn looking at Liam with pleading eyes.

Liam's giggles died down. He schooled his face into mock seriousness and tackled on the role of a responsible parent.

"Uh, yeah, you're right."

Louis had to give Liam credit for trying.

"She's fine," Harry shrugged them off and swung tiny, gurgling Isabella in his arms back and forth, a bit too forceful for anyone's liking. "She's like a little football."

"Will you stop it? Harry. Hazza! Stop it, seriously."

Louis threw his hands up in the air only to let them fall limp in his hair, tangles getting caught between the gaps of his fingers.

Louis didn't know when the roles were reversed. Naturally, he loved to take the piss out of people, always riling them up to get some sort of reaction out of them. It was amusing and he considered it his personal form of entertainment. Harry was way different in comparison. He was gentle with people, always ushering nice words and complimenting them just so he could see the bright smiles on their faces. With little kids, it was a whole other different story.

Louis loved humming to toddlers at night, helping them color on the walls and giving them encouraging words. Harry, on the other hand, loved playing with the kids. Not in an innocent way,  _no_ , he lived for shoving them while playing a hard fought game of football and not even giving them a chance to score. Harry was there hoisting children upside down and hiding with them in dangerously high places in a game of hide-and-go seek. He was mental with kids.

Now, with Harry smiling stupidly at Louis and Isabella drifting off to sleep, Louis couldn't find it within himself to take back Isabella. Louis didn't think he could even if he wanted to because Harry had a death grip on her.

*

Harry's finger wiggled back and forth on Isabella's pouted lips, Isabella gurgling a bubbling sound that was more endearing than not. Isabella then stayed quiet in her seat, touching her little toes and bobbing her head to the music that overflowed the inside of the Honda.

Liam was filming Louis and Harry with Isabella all huddled together in the backseat, Isabella's car seat snugly wedged between them. They had on a cringeworthy children's song playing on repeat and Louis was sure his ears were bleeding. Louis touched his earlobes just to make sure there wasn't any actual blood on his fingers. There wasn't, but that  _still_  didn't justify the reason why he had to endure a slow, painful death of listening to that song on loop it took during the one hour drive from Tesco.

"Cats have kittens. Doggies have pups. Horses have pretty foals and sheep have lambs. Cows have calves and I bet you didn't know that elephants have calves too!"

Zayn and Liam sang along to the song off-key as Liam shut off the camera and faced forward, Zayn smiling in a pleased little way and singing louder. Louis was not sure the song would have sounded good even with perfectly pitched riffs.

Harry smirked and looked over to Louis, who rubbed his hand on his face and groaned aloud. Louis pulled his cap lower on his face, hiding his embarrassment from being forced to listen to a song meant for babies and not grown-ups.

"Lions and leopards have cubs which is the proper name for them to do!"

The song continued to play inside the Honda and Louis wished he could jump out of the moving vehicle without warning. Louis was positively sure dying from a fall to the street would be less torturous than having to tolerate that horrid song.

The Honda finally pulled up to a halt and thankfully the song did too. All four men, and one cute baby, got out of the car as Zayn and Harry made their way into the house with boxes of baked goods while Liam and Louis stayed behind in the patio, opting to set up the tables and chairs instead.

Louis pulled up a chair and plopped himself down with Isabella, Liam offering him one arched eyebrow as he set out to do all the work by himself. His method of helping Liam was sitting down and supervising him work because,  _you know_ , safety precautions and all that. He was there to keep a watchful eye on him in case Liam got close to any suspicious, sharp objects. He was such a good friend honestly. Liam could thank him with a fruit basket at a later time.

Louis hoisted Isabella up into the air, an outburst of giggles escaping Isabella's blubbering mouth. She seemed to love the height so Louis lifted her higher, Isabella squealing in a half-open smile that could only be from pure thrill. Louis was also such a good uncle.

"Mate, she's gonna blow if you keep doing that. She's in a puking phase," Liam warned Louis.

Liam continued to set up the tables for Isabella's first birthday party that Zayn and he were hosting later that evening.

Louis thought it was a bit ridiculous to throw a party for a one-year-old much less a baby. He had argued that Isabella wasn't going to remember the expensive party or the fancy cake or the baby clothes she would soon outgrow. Liam had countered how Zayn and he wanted to make it a tradition. Celebrate every birthday no matter how young or old Isabella was, alongside celebrating the amount of years they stayed together as a family.

"Nah, she loves it." Louis sat Isabella down on his lap, pulling on the balloon strings that were lightly wrapped around her arm. "She loves it. Don't you, Bella?"

Louis wondered if Isabella could fly if he tied enough balloons to her small body. He might put it to the test later on and if deemed successful, try it out on Harry. It would be pretty facinating to see Harry fly.

"You're the only girl I'd shave for, you know that?"

Louis pressed three kisses in rapid succession on her baby soft cheeks, Isabella murmuring incoherent noises into his chest.

"Speaking of, why didn't Danielle come? I thought you guys were getting serious."

Liam reached for another table and unfolded it, smoothing his hands on top of the surface.

"Nah, we ended it a few weeks ago. It wasn't working out."

"What happened?"

Louis knew Liam was trying to pry him open about his feelings as per usual. You didn't have that kind of familiarity with your best mate of six years without noticing the first signs. Still, it was an unspoken game they played. Liam would slip in some noncommittal questions and Louis would either brush them off or answer them coolly. It worked for both of them.

"Oh, I don't know. I just didn't see us on a long march towards death together."

Sarcasm threatened to mock Liam, Louis bouncing Isabella up and down on his leg.

"Oh my bad, I thought you really liked this girl."

"No, that was you. I just thought she was hot."

Louis bopped Isabella on the nose, Liam pinning Louis with a bored expression. Zayn came out of the two open patio doors with his hands resting on his hips, his bottom lip jutting outwards in a pout.

"Babe, don't forget to tip the castle lads."

Zayn nudged his chin towards the two castle  _boys_  and trotted back inside. Liam's eyes traveled down Zayn's swaying hips and up his retreating back.

"They show up an hour late and made  _me_  do all the work. But,  _sure,_ let's tip the castle guys."

They approached the two foolish boys messing around and pushing each other, a steely expression playing on Liam's face and Louis, who remained impassive, carrying Isabella on his arm and hip.

Back inside the house, Harry was fixing the red velvet cupcakes to perfection, squeezing creole cream cheese frosting as a final touch while Zayn followed him trying to appear helpful. If Harry wanted somebody to stand around and do nothing, then he could have just called in Louis.

"So I started taking Isabella to this new family practice."

"Mm-hmm."

Harry rolled his eyes, continuing to plate the decorated cupcakes on a silver platter.

"There's this doctor there. He's so cute. I may have finally replaced my Leonardo Di Caprio crush."

Harry sighed and hip checked Zayn out of the way. He breathed noisily through his nostrils, his slender finger flicking off the creamy frosting and bringing said finger to his mouth for a quick taste. He hummed around his digit, the taste of tangy creole cream cheese melting on his warm tongue.

"Anyway, I noticed no ring...so I started a conversation with this nurse—"

And here it was. Once again, Zayn was trying to ease Harry into the whole  _'it's time you should get yourself out there'_  talk which wasn't much of a talk anyway. Zayn would mention a random name amidst conversation and Harry would simply roll his eyes at him as he would add how the bloke was nice and so forth. It had become a usual routine for them both and Harry was honestly getting tired of it. Harry was perfectly content in being single and instead being focused on his career without getting laid in the past six months.  _Yup. Perfectly content._

"No." Harry shook his head, tucking a loose strand of hair behind his ear. "No, no, no, no. We agreed to a moratorium on setups."

"You're not even listening to me. You might like him," Zayn protested, murmuring a sound of disapproval. "Why not?"

"Because you have the worst setup track record of anyone..." Harry shot Zayn an apathetic look, going to check on the gingerbread eggnog cocktails for the adults. " _Ever_."

"Like who?"

"The Shoplifter." Harry raised his eyebrows, circling Zayn to get to the other unattended pastries. "Adult Braces Bloke."

"Unbelievable. You are still holding that over me," Zayn bemoaned deliberately.

Zayn plucked out the rest of the creole creme cheese frosted cupcakes out of the bakery box.

"That's  _nothing_. I'm not even gonna get into the Tommo Debacle Blind Date."

Harry fixed Zayn a quick glare, Zayn staring unblinkingly back at him.

"Well, that was Liam. I hardly even knew him then."

"You knew he called himself Tommo."

Harry smiled halfheartedly, pausing, the corners of his mouth quirking up at the faint memory.

Even if it was execrable at best, it was still a good story to tell at parties. Harry would go on and on about how Louis set chivalry back a thousand years and Louis would object, arguing, _"Haz, you have high standards for someone who doesn't put out on the first date."_ The people gathered around them would laugh and Harry would playfully nudge Louis in the ribs. Banter was something they did regularly since it was all in good fun.

At first, Louis bickering with Harry twenty-four seven was a nuisance and then suddenly it was not. The days where Louis didn't make fun of Harry's colorful headscarves or twenty-six inch women jeans were strange. Louis had a way of making people crave his friendship even with all the sass, insults and attitude it came with.

Harry frowned, his voice tightening to add, "You're supposed to be my best friend and you can't be like those men who come into my shop and judge me because I don't wear an engagement band anymore."

"I'm not," Zayn's voice clipped, the line of his shoulders stretching into a taut bowstring.

Harry looked from Zayn's pressed lips to the way his muscles fluttered underneath bronze olive skin.

"In the meantime, you keep having gorgeous babies and I will keep spoiling them with  _this_."

Harry brushed off Zayn's glare with a genuine smile, placing an edible duck to top off Isabella's resplendent cake.

"Seriously? This is way better than my wedding cake," Zayn's voice dripped in somber, Harry's humorless face looking at him.

" _I_  made your wedding cake."

"It was a little dry," Zayn proclaimed bluntly, Harry huffing out a scoff.

Zayn remained serious until he broke, his face betraying him as he exhaled gentle laughter. Harry pulled in Zayn for a one arm hug, Zayn leaning in with his solid weight pressed against Harry. Complain all Zayn wanted, but the matter of the fact was that Isabella's cake turned out better than Harry expected. Harry knew he'd be the first one Zayn would call during any kind of baking fiasco although he would never admit it.

Outside, the two castle boys were giving Liam and Louis a few cystic safeguards about the inflatable bounce house.

"Don't let any fat grown-ups in while the kids are inside," one of the boys drawled out in a suspicious whisper, his friend behind him bursting into abrupt laughter.

"Have you boys been smoking marijuana?"

Liam peered into the boy's eyes and sure enough the whites of his eyes were replaced by unmistakable redness.

"That's illegal," the boy sniffed, looking down at his scuffed shoes to ignore Liam's unwavering stare.

"You're stoned. What are you holding? Let me see it." Liam extended his hand, wiggling his fingers for emphasis. "C'mon, you want me to call the cops?"

"Please don't." The boy fished out a small bag of illicit drugs and dropped the baggie in Liam's open palm. "My dad's a pastor."

"Ha!" Louis shook his head in amusement, mirth twinkling in his eyes.

Liam stared at the small bag in disbelief, raising his head to look into the boy's hazy eyes. He sucked in a sharp breath and exhaled heavily through his nose, putting on his best deep, intimidating voice. Louis stifled a throaty chuckle by pressing one closed fist to his mouth.

"Alright, I'm taking this. Next time, you guys are gonna be in big trouble," Liam warned, his chest puffing in and out. Louis looked seconds away from collapsing out of choked laughter. "Now go on and get out of here."

"That's—" the closest boy began to protest.

"Go on. Get out of here," Liam pressed.

"Get out of here!" Louis yelled, the two kids running away at the fluctuated pitch of his voice.

Once they were gone, Liam turned around to face Louis. Liam threw the bag in the air and caught it, clicking his tongue on the roof of his mouth in a stern _tsk_.

"Totally unacceptable. Delivery kids, they all show up stoned out of their minds. Who needs a dealer?"

Liam shook the packaged illicit drugs with a smile playing on his lips before shoving the baggie into his back pocket for sake-keeping.

"Aren't you supposed to be respectable now?" Louis narrowed his eyes at Liam, carrying Isabella to the inflatable castle.

"Relax. Once a year...under the right circumstances...Zayn and I like to relive our missed spent youth."

"Once a year?" Louis widened his eyes at Liam, his curved eyebrow raising impishly.

"Yeah, once a year," Liam stuttered out the words in one quick breath, bringing his hands up defensively.

_"Yeah, right."_

"Yeah, well, I mean...maybe twice a year. Thrice." Liam squinted, cocking his head to the side like a dumb, confused puppy. _"Frice?"_

Louis stepped foot on the bounce house, testing its ability to bounce and trying it out for himself with Isabella wrapped in his arms. He began jumping around, Isabella's words sounding bubbly and unintelligent.

"Tommo, do not bounce her too much."

"She's fine! Look, she loves it."

Louis raised Isabella high in the sky, Isabella's laughing face brighter than the sun.

"Tommo, I'm warning you."

Liam's voice edged towards firm, Louis ignoring him and continuing to jump up with Isabella tucked in his arms.

"Ah, c'mon, she's fine—" At that exact moment, Isabella chose to splutter milk all over Louis' face, Louis groaning with his mouth open. "Oh my God!" Louis spat out the milk that snuck into his mouth, wiping his face clean on his shoulder while Isabella laughed at him.

"Oh my God."

Back inside, Louis cupped his hands with water and scrubbed his face. He rinsed his mouth and spat in the sink again, cleaning off Isabella's mess on his shirt with a wet flannel.

"Don't worry, Isabella, you're not the first girl to throw up on Uncle Tommo."

Harry hugged Isabella to his chest, smirking at Louis whose shirt was drenched with the last remnants of baby puke.

"Hey, Isabella, look. Look! That's what bitter looks like."

Louis pointed to Harry's smiling face with a prominent scowl, continuing to dry his face with a paper towel.

"Tommo, go up to Liam's closet and grab something before everyone gets here," Zayn said amusedly as he filled four glasses with fruity mimosa.

"Why? What time s'it?"

"It's eleven. Though it's only ten in Tommo Time. Now I'm surprised you're even up right now," Harry teased, cooing at Isabella and tilting his face to take a good look at Louis.

Louis was such a picture. His eyes were squinted in that infamous Tommo way, his shirt soaked in baby spew. A flush crept up his neck and cheeks, Louis biting the inside of his lower lip and crossing his arms against his chest. Harry wanted to take a photograph of Louis and frame it in his flat.

Beautiful?  _Not quite._ Hilarious?  _Absolutely_.

"You keep your watch on during sex, don't you?" Louis growled, resting his fists on the kitchen island, a clear challenge ablaze in his narrowed baby blue eyes. He scrunched his bitten lips in thought before continuing. "Do you even have sex? Wait. Who am I kidding? Of course you don't have sex."

"Well, at least I don't wear my baseball cap everywhere. You know you can take it off now, Tommo, we all know about the receding hair line," Harry whispered like a secret, stifling a victorious grin.

"It's a widow's peak," Louis hissed through gritted teeth, his cheeks pink, obviously affected.

Harry knew a won battle when he saw one.

"Hey," Zayn interrupted, nearing closer to Louis who poked his tongue out at Harry.

_Wow. Such an adult._

"I don't have a receding hairline, okay?"

"Hey. Baby's birthday. Neutral corners. Mutual grown-ups take a glass."

Zayn handed Louis a glass of mimosa and knocked his cap off before reuniting with Liam at the other side of the kitchen island, both men facing Louis and Harry.

"First birthday, you can take your hat off for pictures."

"There it is."

Harry pointed to Louis' hairline as Louis self-consciously covered his forehead with his hands.

"Before everyone gets here, we wanted to give a toast to Isabella's two favorite people," Zayn said happily, slipping his hand to Liam's lower back.

Louis eyed them, making his way towards where Harry was sitting with Isabella in his lap. Harry looked up at Louis and shrugged, grabbing ahold of his own glass along to their friends' toast.

"And to our best friends. We made it through her first year with most of our sanity thanks to you lot," Liam finished saying, raising his glass as Zayn mirrored his movements. "We love you boys."

Louis and Harry raised their glasses before drinking them empty. Louis scrunched his lips to the side until he glanced at Zayn's face. He squinted his eyes at what seemed like a teary-eyed Zayn.

"Are you crying?"

"Mothers cry," Zayn said at the same time the doorbell rang. "Thank God, the babysitter's here."

"Why do you need a baby sitter? You're both here." Harry knitted his eyebrows together, gently bouncing Isabella on his lap.

"'Cause he's a genius. When Bella goes nuclear he's the only one who knows how to calm her down. We call him The Baby Whisperer."

Zayn turned around and headed towards the front door, his shined shoes clicking on the polished floors.

"Ooh, The Baby Whisperer, huh?" Harry hummed, his eyes crinkling from amusement.

"Hey. Is he hot?" Louis asked, narrowing his eyes and licking his lips in anticipation.

"Totally hot," Liam said with a wink and a short nod.

"What's wrong with you?"

Harry's ears burned hotly, frowning at Louis and shaking his head in usual disapproval.

"Hey, everybody. This is Mathew."

And  _oh_ Mathew was  _young_.

Zayn walked back into the kitchen with what appeared to be like a thirteen-year-old beside him. Louis' jaw dropped, his body going pliant as Zayn and Mathew approached the group.

"Hello, Mathew," Harry whispered smugly, his left dimple poking out.

Louis stood motionless as Mathew came closer, his face twisting into a grimace and stepping back discretely a few feet away.

_God, he was being ridiculous._

"Hi, Bella." Mathew picked up Isabella in both arms and started walking in the direction of her room. "Let's go get you changed, hmm?"

"Thank you," Zayn uttered gratefully, Louis still gawking after Mathew.

"Are you serious?" Harry chuckled once Mathew was out of earshot. His deep, raspy voice rumbled to say, " _That's_  The Baby Whisperer?"

"Really, if he was old enough to have sex with Liam I'd be obsolete," Zayn breathed out on a quiet laugh, one hand settling on his hip.

"You'd never be obsolete, babe. C'mere."

Liam pulled Zayn into his muscular arms and enveloped him in a tight embrace. Liam leaned close to press a soft kiss to Zayn's puckered lips.

Harry stared at them in what could only be admiration. Being around Zayn and Liam only encouraged him to have his own epic romance going on. Harry didn't even remember the last time he had a proper date without recalling the mess of the Tommo Debacle Blind Date.  _Had it really been that long ago? Jesus, he really_ did _need to get back out there._

Harry slowly shook away his thoughts, wrinkling his nose when Louis inched closer.

"Oh my God. Can you step away? You reek of baby puke."

"Oh, really?"

Louis bit his bottom lip, his smile widening into a wolfish grin. He came close behind Harry and attempted to brush himself on Harry's back, his shirt still sticky and clinging to his wet skin.

"You do. Get away from me!"

Throaty chuckles escaped Harry's mouth, Harry pushing Louis away until Louis gave up and skidded across the floors like the child he truly was.

Hours after a few banters, talking to the neighbors and making sure everybody had their glasses full and plates filled with food, Louis and Harry found themselves singing happy birthday to a more than joyous Isabella bouncing in her seat.

There was cake frosting smeared on jeans, clothes that reeked of spilled drinks, fingers sticky-sweet from accidentally touching wet surfaces and Louis didn't know when he let his life get this much out of control. Louis knew his life would drastically change once Liam and Zayn married and adopted Isabella. He had even been a tiny bit skeptical for trading his blacked out nights over baby birthday parties. But when he sat down and really thought about it, he couldn't find a reason to complain when it filled the empty spaces in his life. With Isabella, Liam, Zayn and even Harry to some extent, Louis could get used to it.

"Happy birthday dear Isabella, happy birthday to you!"

Zayn leaned down and blew out the lit candles, lightly pinching Isabella's cheek and moving back so Liam could continue filming her for their home movies.

"Guys, c'mon. I want a picture of Isabella with her godparents."

Liam ushered Louis and Harry to heel next to Isabella which they couldn't object.

_Who could ever deny taking a picture with the cutest baby in the world?_

"Okay."

Harry bent down and smiled wide, Louis' arm coming up to hug Harry's shoulder solely for photographic purposes of course.

"Alright, on three, say, "Tommo has a widow's peak!""

Liam smiled at them through the camera, Zayn laughing loudly beside him and hanging off his shoulder.

"One, two, cheese!"

The shutter went off, Isabella hitting Harry's face with her toy duck.

"Oops," Harry said lowly, his eyes squinting almost completely shut from his goofy smile.

Louis dropped his arm to his side. Louis and Harry shared a smile, smiles that were hardly shared between them on rare occasions such as Isabella's first birthday.

Even with Isabella bringing fistfuls of cake to her mouth, even with noisy people filling up the room and moving past them, even with Zayn raising one surprised eyebrow at their motionless bodies, Louis couldn't tear his eyes away from Harry.

Harry's bottom lip tucked into his mouth, reappearing with a coat of saliva. Then Louis did look away.

Louis didn't remember how or when things changed, but all that time spent fighting with Harry suddenly felt closer to home than it ever did in years.

_And, yeah, he could definitely get used to this._


	3. You Needed Me To Feel A Little More And Give A Little Less

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for this chapter.

* * *

**SPRING**  
That morning as per usual, Louis made his routine around Hyde Park, passing a string of football players and dogs chasing after tennis balls. Louis' muscles fluttered with every footfall, the muscles on his back recoiling and uncoiling. He wasn't so deliberately tired from a late last night, but he loved the burning feeling in his tendons as he stretched and jogged and sprinted. With his flexible work schedule, he had enough time to work out and slip in a few shags now and then for the sake of fun. He loved his carefree life.

Louis ran hard and long enough that he was completely drenched in sweat. A sheen of perspiration covered his tan body, mostly his chest and back. Louis' white tank top clung to his torso, his golden skin appearing through the sheer material. He sighed deeply, trying to recollect his normal breathing rate and appreciating the pleasant burn that stretched across his top thighs and lower abdomen.

Louis walked into the flat and smiled at each layer of clothing leading to the mattress on the floor. At first, he didn't notice the bundled bed sheets or the head full of messy hair as he made his way to the kitchen. The refrigerator light flickered on as he took out an ice cold water bottle before shutting the door closed again with his bum.

"Hi."

The voice startled Louis as he turned his head around to see the same woman from last night still sprawled in his bed with tousled bed sheets and her hair matted to her forehead. It appeared she didn't comprehend the concept of a one-night stand. In Louis' book, he had given her enough time to fix herself some breakfast, change into her regular clothes and slip out of Louis' flat just as she was supposed to disappear from his life as well.

"Hey."

"Wanna get a late breakfast?"

Louis walked towards his conquest and leaned down, pressing a chaste kiss to her forehead. She smelled like sweat and remnants of filthy sex.

"Nah, I can't. I got a game in an hour. I gotta go shower."

The woman that Louis, for the life of him couldn't remember her name, draped her arms over Louis' shoulders and tugged him down to brush their lips together. Louis kissed her without much effort. He could still taste the saltiness of himself on her tongue.

"Mmm. Are you sure about that?"

Louis pulled away and smiled feebly, humming and breathing out, "I'm sure."

Louis walked towards the bathroom, his brain urging him to leave faster. He slipped off his Adidas by stepping on the back of his trainers, his bare feet padding on the cold floor. He turned around halfway and smiled politely at the stranger before ducking his head inside the bathroom.

"There's coffee. Oh, and mugs are in the cabinet."

*

Fraichewas a quaint little bakery that Harry had been proud of ever since they first opened up. It wasn't extraordinary or business wasn't booming like Harry hoped it would, but if anything, it was doing well. There was always a long line of customers and people often gushed about Harry's new creations for the week.

Harry still remembered how enthralled he had been when Fraiche was on the cover of their city's newspaper. They had raved about his delicacies and rated it four stars out of five. That week, Harry never seemed to get off the adrenaline he was running high on and had given out free panna cotta's to everyone that congratulated him. It was safe to say that he was never doing that again since people caught on and he had spent the whole day serving panna cotta's free of charge to customers who didn't even know his name, much to his disdain.

"Ooh. This looks delicious."

Harry leaned down, the smell of warm chocolate and rich almonds filling his nostrils. He pinched off a generous crumb from one of James Corden's cookies fresh out of the oven and popped the treat into his mouth.

"No, no, don't taste that. It's not ready yet."

"No, I'm just taking a bite."

"The crumb is too fine, I should've gone with the Ceylon cinnamon. The cinnamon is too wrong." 

James chased Harry around the countertop, his mouth rambling on and on about different combinations and alternative spices he could have used.

"Oh my God. You're a genius," Harry said in a quiet moan, savoring the drizzled chocolate that melted on his warm tongue. "You are. You may be bipolar, but you're a genius. I swear I would eat them out of the trash," he laughed, rubbing his stomach.

"That's nasty. Out of the trash."

James trailed off, following Harry's gaze. The same man with ginger hair unruly swept on top of his head came near the entrance of Fraiche _._ Mr. Right was a regular and he might or might not have been the reason Harry bumped into the edges of the tables whenever the silver bell above the door tinkered.

"Free-Range Turkey's here."

Harry dismissed James' teasing voice and made his way to the register. He smoothed his hands over his knee-slit jeans, licking his lips and trying to remember how to breathe right. There were a couple of times where Mr. Gorgeous walked in and Harry had forgotten breathing was a necessity aspect of life.

"Where are you going? See? I knew it! You do this every time he comes in.  _Know_  that I  _know_  that you get excited! Look at you!"

James followed Harry around the cash counter, his snarky comments tickling air in Harry's ear.

"Shut up, I'm just trying to be responsible. I'm just gonna take over here. Thank you, love."

Harry lightly pushed away Lou Teasdale who was working at the cash register and took off his olive colored beanie, combing through the tangled strands of hair to ruffle back to life. He could not,  _not now_ , have his hair looking like a wild mess.

"You don't act like this when old man Cowell comes in here."

"You know what? Don't be a smart-arse. Go fix your cookies."

Harry's lips quirked slightly. He seemed on the brink of laughter as he shook his head at James, who first pointed two fingers formed in a V at his eyes, then back to Harry. James eyed him knowingly as he vanished around the corner, Harry biting back soft laughter. Harry jerked his head to his favorite customer, an automatic smile stretching his cheeks.

"Hey."

The ginger-haired beauty walked up to the counter, his eyes roaming at all the exquisite treats placed underneath the display window. Other rich delicacies that blossomed under the clear glass were butterscotch-maple cheesecake tortes, crème brûlée cheesecake bars, cranberry-apple sugar cookie tarts and salted caramel cookie truffles.

Contrary to popular belief, the life of a baker didn't mainly consist of working on bakery cakes, bread and pastries. Sure, Harry had to make trips back and forth from Whole Foods to buy fresh ingredients and, sure, he spent his afternoons preparing those same ingredients into edible products for the next day, but there was also the billing, the work put in the shop itself and everything in between. Although Harry's favorite part was the satisfaction he received when customers would moan from tasting his baked goods. He would just about give anything to hear the person in front of him moan right now.

"Um, lemme guess...free-range turkey on baguette?" Harry raised both of his eyebrows, cheekiness coloring his cheeks and neck.

"I'm getting predictable, huh?"

"Well, I like to think of it as dependable," Harry said with a nervous little laugh. He swiped his tongue over his puffy pink bottom lip. "It's been thirty five same sandwiches."

"Mmh." The stunning man licked his own lips. "You're counting?"

" _Ish_. Thirty five- _ish_." Harry's eyes crinkled, sidestepping away from the cream colored countertop to the other pastries delicately placed on stands. "You know, there are other things on the menu...if you'd like to try something else."

"Um, surprise me."

"Okay, alright, great. Do you like croissants?"

"I do, yeah."

The gorgeous man Harry had been ogling for weeks (maybe even months) pulled out his wallet, his small smile quirking up higher on the corners.

"Good. Then I've got that just coming."

The beautiful man sighed an airy breath, looking around the busy people-filled bakery before directing his attention back to Harry.

"How come you don't wear one of those white coats? You know, with your name on it? So I know what it is."

Harry turned around quickly, his breath hitching in his throat. His Adam's apple bobbed with the movement of his hard swallow. He palmed his jeans with sweaty hands.

"It's Harry."

"Harry. Ed."

They reached over the countertop to shake hands, lingering for longer than deemed normal. Harry's eyes were downcast. Harry hoped Ed wasn't aware of the slight blush tinting his cheeks.

"Nice to meet you."

"We met, um, thirty five sandwiches ago."

Harry's nose wrinkled, a shy smile dimpling his cheeks. "Thirty six now."

A smile slowly stretched over Ed's cherubic cheeks. Ed took out a few pounds and extended his hand for Harry to take.

"Keep the change."

"Oh, thanks."

Ed started to walk away, Harry's no-filter mouth stuttering out words before he could catch his own breath.

"You sure you don't wanna throw your card in the bowl? Winner gets a free lunch."

_Zayn would be so proud of Harry if he saw him now._

Ed stopped in his tracks and walked back to the countertop with a cool, relaxed exterior. Harry, on the other hand, was tapping his suede-toed foot on the tile, nerves practically radiating off him in waves. Ed's lips curved into a smile as he flicked his card inside the bowl along with the others. Harry felt his chest swell up and blew hot air out of his lips to keep himself from doing anything stupid; like maybe throw himself on Ed and kiss him senseless.

"How about a free dinner on me?"

They shared an infinitesimal smile before Ed started to walk away again, his hands shoved deep into the pocket of his oversized jumper. As soon as Ed couldn't see Harry, Harry lunged towards the card bowl to find Ed's card and possibly his soon-to-be date.

"Eh, eh, eh. Wait. Be cool, be cool. Wait for him to go out the door." James reappeared by Harry's side, his voice coaxing to a low hum. "Damn."

Ed looked over his shoulder and smiled at Harry one last time before leaving the warm space. He walked three, four steps farther before James whispered into Harry's ear again even though no one was close enough to hear their subtle conversation.

"Go."

Harry propelled himself forward, his feet not getting the message to balance himself upright and almost falling flat on his face. His fingertips sorted through the various cards, trying to pick out Ed's name from the rest of the customers.

"Okay. Oh, no. Which one was it?"

Harry threw the useless names over his shoulder, flitting through the little crisp cards in hopes of finding the right one. James looked over Harry's shoulder, laughing quietly and scratching behind his ear.

"Okay, that's a Benjamin. Oh, there's an Ed!"

"You know, I can pick one for you."

"How many Ed's are there in this city?"

*

It was another day of work of directing the camera angles and getting that perfect shot that everyone at home was viewing. Basketball fanatics were oblivious that there were actual jobs of knowing at when and what precise times they had to direct the camera crew.

Ben Winston was being his usual self with his lips pressed firmly in a thin line. He had his headgear on, encircling his workers at the technical board like a shark surrounding its prey. He wasn't that far off Louis supposed.

It wasn't a difficulty working for Ben, but he had that hard exterior about him that intimidated people on a first-time meeting. Truth being, it was all an actual façade that no one but Louis knew. All it took was working diligently for Ben for three solid years to earn his trust and late nights at the bar with extortionate food and drinks. Five shots of vodka tonic later and Louis had Ben wrapped around his little finger, Ben blubbering slurred secrets for Louis not to tell.

Not to mention The BlowJob of all Blowjobs when a drunk Ben kissed a surprised Louis on the lips. When Louis hadn't moved away, Ben dragged him to the loos and kneeled on the dirty floor, sucking Louis off until he came with a grunt. Louis hadn't reciprocated the favor because as he so delicately put it,  _"It's quite unprofessional to get my boss off."_  He relished in the red blush that coated Ben's ashamed face. He had an air of professionalism to maintain after all.

Ben walked around his inferiors, shooting Josh a glance before tightening his grip on his mug of tea.

"Josh, I need shooting percentages."

Josh rolled his eyes, adjusting the mic to his mouth and Louis snickering beside him. It was the biggest game of the week and Louis hoped that his directing would impress Ben enough to give him a raise or maybe promote him to the director's chair. Louis was already at the top of his coworkers, but he needed the actual title from Ben to have luxurious benefits and the like.

Ben sighed exasperatedly, setting down his steaming mug of tea to crack his knuckles. He could come off borderline scary at the tip of a hat.

"Josh, I asked for shooting percentages. Let's go. You're too ugly not to be smarter. C'mon, let's go."

Josh scoffed, worrying his bottom lip into his mouth. He clicked a few more buttons and swiveled around in his black leather chair to face Louis, his lips forming in a sneer. He quickly glanced at Ben to make sure he wasn't looking nor hearing them and let his forearms hang off his knees, his composure casual and laid-back.

"I hate him so much." Josh ran a stressed hand through his blonde locks, Louis fighting back a secretive smile. "I wanna frame somebody's murder on him, you know? Fingerprints. Scene of the crime."

"What's that?"

Ben turned around to face them, his mug now placed back in his white-knuckled hands. He pointedly looked at Josh with a threatening glare.

"Shooting percentages coming right up, sir."

Josh swiveled back in his chair and went back to doing what he did best, waiting until Ben called him to press a this or that button.

Josh was the youngest out of the coworkers aside from Louis and maybe that was what encouraged Ben to always tease him at work and sometimes push him over the edge a little bit. Also, he was Ben's puppet and everybody knew it no matter how many times Josh tried to deny it.

Josh gave Ben the bird when his back turned to him, Louis stifling a laugh and shaking his head in faux-sternness.

*

Harry reached over to grab his phone, his fingertips careful not to drop the small device into the soapy water. The only time of day he looked forward to was the evening when he took his much deserved bubble bath after hours of loading up heavy bags of flour into delivery trucks and getting said flour in his hair.

Honesty, Harry preferred the way his hair looked right now with shampoo sculpting it into a mohawk and the soap suds on his chin forming a bubble beard. He felt the most relaxed swimming in pure bubble bliss.

Harry had a stack of four possible Ed's in one hand while he gripped the phone tightly with his other, his slippery fingertips clicking the buttons.

"Hi, Ed, this is Harry Styles from Fraiche. I think you left your card in my bowl today about the free lunch. Um, I hope you did because you're one of four Ed's who did this week," Harry chuckled, the phone pressed wetly to his cheek while his free hand carded through his soapy curls. "And if it is you and you asked me out, I accept if—"

The call picked up with a female voice on the other end of the line.

"Hello?"

Harry stopped threading through his slick hair midway.

"Hello?"

"Why are you calling my husband?"

"Right, you're his wife." Harry's breath hitched, he paused, then, "Of course, I—"

"We are very happily married."

"I understand you are happily married. Really, I didn't mean anything. I'm so sorry. Okay, yes, you take care. I'm sorry."

Harry took a sharp intake of breath, his chest falling with the unsteady tempo of his exhales. He shook his head, bubbles drifting in the humid air. He took out the second possible Ed and pressed the phone back to his ear, waiting for the call to pick up.

"Hi, Ed?"

Another high-pitched voice answered, not quite what Harry was looking for. If Harry remembered exactly, Ed's voice was bridged between soft and gruff, completely opposite to feminine.

"Yes, Edeline."

"Oh, Edeline.  _Oh_ , it's an  _Edeline_." Harry tugged on the ends of his hair out of frustration, furrowing his eyebrows and biting hard on his swollen bottom lip. "I'm sorry, I have the wrong number."

"What's going on?" the voice murmured in a sexy, kittenish voice. "Are you single?"

"I  _am_  single," Harry breathed out, his smile shaky. "Yes."

After the third wrong Ed, Harry was all but ready to give up. It was hopeless, really. Harry exhaled a deep sigh, took even breaths and dialed the last and possible Ed. He waited for the answering machine to pick up, lifting his ankles to rest at the edge of the porcelain white bathtub.

"Hi, Ed Sheeran.  _Dr._  Ed Sheeran. This is Harry Styles from Fraiche and I'm really hoping that you're the Ed I talked to today. If not, I'm screwed. Because you're the last Ed who put his card in the bowl for a free lunch." The phone beeped and Harry pulled it away to reveal he had someone else trying to reach him. Harry laughed nervously and pressed the phone to his damp cheek again. "Oh, I'm sorry. Um, call waiting."

Harry clicked on the other call and heard a shuffling of papers on the receiver. It was an unknown number and he was strongly considering ending the call because it was interrupting his search for his dreamy Ed after all.

"Hello?"

The woman on the other end of the line asked for Harry Styles, her voice oddly robotic and calm. Harry's heartrate picked up. He didn't appreciate strangers calling him in the middle of his bubble bath time. Or disrupting his hunt for his soulmate.

"Yes, this is he."

*

Harry hurriedly jogged up the steps of the police station, sirens blaring loudly in the background. He shrugged off his hoodie and reached the reception desk, biting the inside of his cheek from nerves. He didn't realize how hard he was biting until he tasted the metallic tinge of blood.

"Excuse me? I'm looking for Officer Young."

After the receptionist gave Harry directions, Harry thanked her quickly and went in his search for Officer Young. Once Harry found him, he didn't like the odd look on the officer's face or his blank stare. Young offered Harry some coffee or tea and Harry dismissed it altogether to  _just_   _get on with it_. He couldn't stand the suspension any longer.

One minute. That was all it had taken. One minute for Young to explain to Harry the terrible accident that happened an hour ago. One minute to tell Harry they needed contact information for someone to watch Isabella in the meantime. In that one minute, Young neglected to tell Harry where Zayn and Liam were. Harry knew he would speed in his Fiat and run all the red lights to the hospital center without letting the officer finish his sentence if that was where they were at the moment. Maybe Young knew as much.

"The highway patrol officer found your name and number in their insurance card in their wallet. Now, we need numbers for the nearest next of kin. Can you supply those?"

Harry fussed with the hemline of his shirt as the officer spoke. His ears were burning and his mind couldn't catch up with the words spilling from Young's mouth, but dammit it was late and he was having a mild panic attack. Young  _still_  wasn't telling him anything and he desperately needed to see Zayn and Liam to calm his frenzied emotions before he jumped to any horrible assumptions.

"Yeah. Liam's dad. Um. How did you say the car flipped? It flipped when it hit the—"

Grave concern washed over Young's face, his mouth parting open around a hesitant sigh.

"Are you sure you wouldn't like to sit down?"

"They have a baby girl. Isabella. Was she in the car? Was she in the car with them?"

Harry knew he was rambling and hardly making any sense, but could anyone blame him? He was tired and a bit worried and a bit more mad. He scrunched up his face in dreaded anticipation as he waited for Young's answer, shoving his trembling hands into his pockets.

"No, she was in the care of a minor. A baby sitter at the time of the accident."

Harry exhaled a sigh of relief, some of the weight on his chest lifting away. Young continued to speak, something about the stiff line of his shoulders making Harry on edge.

"So the officers placed her with CPS for the night. She's perfectly fine."

"CPS?"

"Child Protective Services. Where they take cases like this."

Harry's breath quickened. He caught sight of himself in the reflective surface behind Officer Young's back. He looked dreadful. His eyes were rimmed red and his face looked white, paler than ever before.

For a moment, it felt like his soul was leaving his body and Harry could see himself and Young below. Harry was hyperaware that the grave expression on Young's face was making something in his stomach give out. He was hyperaware of how he was gnawing excessively on his bottom lip, his chest giving away the motions of his sharp breaths all too clearly. And still, he didn't want to believe it. He didn't want to piece all the clues together until it formed the only reasonable conclusion. The only reason Young would be asking him about adult supervision for Isabella.

"Cases like this?"

"Orphaned children."

And yet, Harry had to believe it. Because it was true.

Harry took a few steps backwards until his back hit the wall. His body shook involuntarily, every hair on his body rising and shivering. He didn't realize he was crying until a choked sob escaped his mouth. He rubbed his face with one palm to dry his cheeks, his closed fist clamping his mouth to silence his whimpers. He slid down until he reached the floor and buried his face into his folded arms, hugging himself. His throat burned with ache and salty tears slipped down his cheeks without his permission.

Just yesterday, Harry had gotten off the phone with Zayn and Liam about making plans to go out to a pub and now they were never coming back. He was all alone. All he had left was Louis.  _Louis. Where the fuck was Louis?_

Harry couldn't grasp what was real and what was not. He didn't now if he was caught in a horrible nightmare and couldn't pinch himself out of it only to wake up drenched in sweat. He knew this because during the whole ride to the police station he kept pinching his skin with his fingernails, his other hand tightly gripping the steering wheel. Scratches marked his stomach in raised lines of pink.

They hadn't told Harry anything over the phone. Harry had fought the lady on the other end of the line and he was sure they had gotten some sick sense of satisfaction from hearing his strained, pinched voice. Maybe they were pulling a prank on him. Maybe Zayn and Liam were going to jump out of nowhere and tackle Harry to the ground, nuzzle their faces into his neck and laugh at how ridiculous he was being. Surely, it was all a nightmare.

Surely, Louis was in this as well. Hell, it was probably his awful sense of humor that started this wrecked idea. So Harry waited.

And waited.

And waited.

And waited.

Harry waited until he heard the familiar engine of a motorcycle pull up, Louis pulling his head out of his helmet and running up the steps. Louis frantically walked inside, his hair a wild mess and the stubble on his chin only half-shaven.

"Louis."

Louis looked at Harry with wide eyes, the same casual composure Harry had come to known contort into a frazzled, hysteric mess. Harry's eyes sagged. He knew this wasn't a prank gone too far. He knew Louis wasn't the mastermind behind it all. More than that, he knew Zayn and Liam could no longer laugh until their stomachs hurt and tears built up, could no longer tease Harry until he blushed, could no longer plant kisses in Harry's hair or tickle his stomach in affection. They were now another lifeless body, another empty soul, another two caskets in the ground buried six feet under. Another 'they were too young' news story wondering where it had all gone wrong. Another heartbreak.

Harry raised his eyes, locking eyes with Louis and shaking his head no. Louis sighed shakily, dropping his head as Harry approached him. Harry had always been so self-cautious around Louis, always walking around him on tiptoes. This time, without hesitation, without complaint, Harry embraced Louis' body in a hug, resting his head on Louis' rapidly beating chest.

A beating chest with a beating heart that Zayn and Liam no longer had.

Louis didn't immediately reach over to hug him back and Harry couldn't find it within himself to care. The sounds of sirens fainted in the distance, causing Louis to finally wrap his arms around Harry's shaking body. Louis buried his face into the crook of Harry's neck, sobbing quietly and dousing Harry's skin damp with tears. Harry rested his chin on top of Louis' hair, murmuring sweet nonsense to him and rubbing the small of his back in soothing wide circles.

It had always been Zayn and Liam _and_  Louis and Harry. Now it was just Louis and Harry.

The only thing they had in this hostile world was each other.


	4. Is It So Wrong That You Make Me Strong

* * *

"No, no. I just don't understand why we can't see her tonight. No, ma'am. I don't care about your protocol. This is—" Harry hesitated, nodding for a few moments, Louis' eyes burning on Harry's torso. "Yes. I will be here at this number.  _Yes_."

Harry hung up and growled, slamming the phone down on the kitchen island and dragging one palm across his face. Although he usually drawled out his words, this time he talked fast enough that Louis had to lean forward as to not miss any words that fell from his lips.

"They won't do anything. Not until eight a.m. tomorrow."

"Okay, okay, I'm sure that she's fine."

Louis' eyes were drawn downwards, his forefinger and thumb picking at a loose thread on his blue shorts. Harry's eyes traveled down Louis' thick, football thighs and fuzzy legs. Louis looked _incredible_  in them, but now was not the time to comment at how tight they were on the lovely lower half of his body.

"Why don't we sleep here tonight? That way we're here in the morning if they call."

Harry was still silent, so Louis raised his head and stood up to face him.

"Alright?"

Louis' soft voice prompted Harry to look up at him and when he did, he wished he hadn't. Louis was looking at Harry like he was scared to get any closer, a visual representation of a deer caught in the headlights. His eyes were almost squinted shut and the corners of his mouth were slightly quivering. All signs of mischievous Louis with a cheeky smile were gone. It wasn't like him. Louis had always found a way to make things light, no matter how heavy the circumstances were. Harry would even imply that Louis had humor and he was the giggle at a funeral, but he guessed that didn't apply to his best friends' deaths. He couldn't bear to see Louis like this, so he decided he wouldn't, pushing his way around him and bumping his shoulder.

"Okay."

"Why don't you take the guest bedroom?"

"Okay. You can take their room if you want."

Louis thumbed over his shoulder to the living room, his smile not quite reaching his eyes.

"Ah, no thank you. I'll sleep over here."

Harry nodded slowly and started to walk away. He stopped at the doorway, pushing his hair away from his forehead.

"See you in the morning."

"Okay."

Without overthinking it too much, Harry tucked his bottom lip into his mouth and spoke. Harry's voice was back to normal, dragging out the words ever so slowly.

"Thanks, Louis."

Louis smiled professionally, his hands tucked into the front pockets of his jeans in a boyish manner. His eyes gave him away though, a burst of sad acceptance shown in them.

"Okay."

Harry left Louis alone in the room in silence. Louis sighed heavily, dragging his feet over to the sofa in long, purposeful strides. Outside, the sky was turning into dark shades of purple and blue, reminding him that it was almost nighttime. Louis was suddenly hit with how much hatred he had for the world and everyone in it. How could he believe in miracles and angels when the world took everything away that was important to him? How could he be happy and fake a smile when his two best friends were no longer here, no longer telling him bad jokes and laughing and breathing?

Louis wondered if this is what it felt like. If the world kept rotating when something miserable like this happened and people walking next to him had no clue that his heart was in the ruins, shattered and hopeless. While Louis' world had stopped, everyone else was oblivious that two incredible people were no longer walking on Earth. He also wondered how many times he had walked next to those same people with broken hearts. It was an endless, vicious cycle.

If anything, Zayn and Liam were too good and pure for this ugly world. Maybe that was why God or whatever supernatural being up there decided to pick the two best flowers in the field.

Louis decided it was about time to shut his brain off for the night. He could wallow in his grief tomorrow and the day after and for the rest of his life. Tonight, he just needed some sleep and pretend to be strong for himself. For Harry.

Louis plucked out Isabella's toy duck and plopped on the sofa. He smiled to himself, reminiscing memories of crashing out on Liam's and Zayn's sofa when he was too wasted to drive home. He never asked them if he could stay, always lurking around the house until late hours of the night and hoping they wouldn't notice his Adidas trainers were still sitting by the door. He slept thinking they would hang him by tomorrow only to wake up to the smell of chocolate chip pancakes. They tolerated him that much. They might have even loved him. Louis didn't know now—couldn't bear to think that he couldn't ask them anymore.

Louis cuddled the fluffy duck to his chest, his eyelids droopy and heavy. Sleep started to drift into his body, making it feel like he was sinking into the sofa cushions. For a brief moment, Louis felt his face spread into a slow smile because Liam and Zayn were now watching over him like the angels they always were.

And if it made him feel any safer, no one else but Louis had to know.

*

Louis and Harry were sitting patiently in the living room with Liam's partner at the law firm. Harry listened attentively to the lawyer while Louis was staring hard at his untouched cup of tea. Louis' head only snapped up at the sound of Liam's name.

"I'm sure this is a very difficult time for you, obviously. Everyone at the firm will miss Liam very much." The lawyer, Andy, picked up his papers and straightened them into a neat stack. "Now, you must have many questions."

Harry's eyes flitted towards Louis, who gave him an encouraging nod in return. He pursed his lips in thought and spoke.

"Well, Isabella, I mean...that's who we're both thinking of. What will happen to her now?"

"Okay, well, I have already arranged for her transfer. The foster family that she was with last night will bring her to CPS. They'll feel she'll adjust best in her own environment. So first she needs to be picked up and brought here."

Louis shifted in his seat uncomfortably before propping his foot under his bum, leaning forward on the coffee table with his hands clasped together tightly.

"Okay, and, uh...who does that?"

Andy looked between them, his eyebrows raising high. He adjusted his glasses on the bridge of his nose. He waved his hand between them, his mouth pressing in a thin line.

"I'm sorry, did Zayn and Liam talk to you about their guardianship arrangements?"

Louis and Harry looked at each other briefly before looking back at the lawyer.

"No," they said at the same time.

Louis' eyes narrowed as Harry stared at the lawyer in surprise.

"Well, in preparing their will we talked about who would take care of Isabella in the unlikely event that they should both die and they named you..." Andy paused, nervously looking between them. "Both of you."

Suspense was heavy in the air. Harry spoke ambiguously, "I'm sorry. They picked us  _together?"_  at the same time Louis said incredulously, "I'm sorry. Could you explain that again?"

"I'm sure this isn't exactly how you wanted to start a family."

Harry laughed abruptly, Louis raising his eyebrows in question at Harry's sudden outburst. His face contorted into disgust, Harry waving his hand wildly between them, gesturing to himself, then to Louis, then back to himself again.

"There's been a misunderstanding. We are  _not_  married."

Louis flicked his fringe away from his forehead, his fingers getting caught in the tangles and leaving his hand at the back of his head to rest there. He flexed his bicep and shook his head slowly.

"No, no. They tried to set us up in a blind date. We didn't even make it to the restaurant."

"It didn't work. He was such a dick."

"He was such a prude."

Andy smacked the stack of papers loudly against the coffee table. Louis' and Harry's insults died down, Louis' lips shaking with unsung laughter despite the heavy circumstance in hand. The lawyer looked between them very seriously, the corners of his mouth drooping down for a split second.

"I know this is overwhelming, okay, but believe me, I tried to advice them against it. But there are options, you  _can_  say no. Because this is a big deal. This is a  _child..._ "Andy paused, his eyes narrowing into an eagle-like stare that made Louis squirm in his seat nervously. "Big commitment."

Louis and Harry politely excused themselves to go out and take a breath of fresh air. Harry went to the backyard while Louis went to the front porch. Harry's body fell limp on the steps while Louis was pacing in circles, biting on his fingers out of bad habit, his nails dull from nervous biting and Harry combing his hand frigidly through his tangled locks of hair.

"Oh my God."

Harry covered his mouth with his hands, inhaling and exhaling deeply through his nostrils. If he didn't calm down he knew he would collapse, faint or throw up. Or do all three options, really.  _Because what the hell had his life become anyway?_

Harry was a single twenty-one-year-old gay man that ran his own successful boutique bakery. Now he was going to become a deprived single gay man that had no chance of finding real love if he had to spend the rest of his life with a man he couldn't seem to tolerate for more than five seconds.  _Jesus_.

Louis was wringing his wrinkled shirt in his hands, trying to assess the situation at hand because _what the fuck? What the fuck?_  In reality, these things just didn't happen. And they certainly didn't happen to Louis fucking Tomlinson of all people.

"Oh my God." Louis' voice sounded broken, barely above a whisper.

Louis loved his life and he wasn't about to let any baker boy steal that away from him. He loved that he got to wake up at ten a.m. and have a run, kick his shag out from the night before and go to work where he followed directions and pressed buttons. He loved that he could get wasted at nights and not have to worry about setting an alarm early for the morning. Now, all of that was gone. Louis' carefree life, his blackouts, his sex life. He was going to be handling a pill for a human being and an orphaned baby and he was done for, honestly. It was enough to make Louis almost want to cry.

But the fact of the matter remained—Isabella needed Louis. Louis couldn't just walk away. Especially how insanely attached he had gotten to her since the very first day he met her. _Especially_  when it got personal. Louis was  _not_  his father. He didn't just walk away at the first sign when things got hard.

Instead, Louis sucked in a choked breath and stomped back inside, his dignity still intact. Louis and Harry both stepped into the living room at the same time, their eyes darting everywhere else except at each other. They sat down quietly, Andy's hands wounded tight with his thumbs fiddling together.

"Options." Louis wiggled his bum on the chair, crossing his forearms and blowing hot air out of his bitten lips. "You, um, you mention that there were some other options?"

Louis flicked his hand in the air as he spoke, knocking over his cup of tea. He quickly picked it up with trembling fingers, the cold tea spreading out on the mahogany table. Harry looked at Louis anxiously, his teeth sinking into his lower lip. The lawyer flitted through loose papers until his index finger landed on a possibility, ignoring the mess that was Louis.  _Bless him._  Andy looked up at them with raised eyebrows, his lips pursed to the side.

"Yes. We have Liam's father."

Louis leaned back in his seat, his pointer fingers resting against each other. His grin widened into a smile, Louis feeling accomplished with himself.

"Oh, perfect! He'd be perfect, I think."

Harry looked at Louis in disbelief, his lips forming a perfect 'o' shape. He shook his head slowly, holding Louis' gaze for a moment before looking at Andy with his mouth flapping open.

"There's a few cousins."

"You know what? I'm sorry. Can I stop you right there?"

"Cousins are always, um," Louis began saying, glancing at Harry with arched eyebrows.

"Yeah."

Harry's stare drifted towards Louis briefly before looking back at the lawyer. He rested his chin in his open palm, his voice a contemplative tone.

"What if one of us—on our own? By ourselves? Chose to honor Zayn's and Liam's wishes on our own?"

Louis frowned at Harry, his smirk making Harry wary. He cocked his head to the side as if he was trying to figure Harry out. He reached out and dragged his index finger across Harry's gawking mouth, Harry's lips shaded a deep rose. Harry gasped a low hum, Louis shushing him with his forefinger.

"Or both of us?" Louis interrupted, dropping his hand and turning to look at Andy. "Hypothetically."

"Well, they named you. So I just set up a court hearing to grant you temporary custody and that's it. Now, the finances. The estate will cover the mortgage, but that's about it. They didn't have much in the way of savings. They bought this house as an investment after Zayn's mother passed away."

Louis and Harry took this opportunity to roam their eyes around the perimeters of the room, both gaping at the expenses of it all.

Andy noticed their uneasiness and waved his hands in front of them, quickly adding, "But, you know, let's not get ahead of ourselves. Let's just focus on Isabella."

Andy let his words hang in the air for a beat or two, his mouth opening up to advise, "So I suggest the two of you move in here in the interim. For Isabella."

Harry dropped his head, huffing out humorless laughter through his nostrils until he looked back up at the lawyer. Not one inch of Andy's face looked like he was visibly joking. Harry shook himself out of it, letting the words sink in until his brain wrapped around the words.  _He wasn't being serious, was he?_

Harry laughed, "You want us to live here together?"

"For Isabella. For now. Until you decide what to do."

_Fuck. He was being serious._

Louis and Harry glanced at each other before looking away awkwardly, fixing their fringes out of nervous habit.

_Didn't this take a turn for the worst?_

*

Harry stared at his own reflection in déjà vu. He continued to stare at the glass window for any sign of Isabella. He was breathing in the air sharply, his breaths coming in quick, short gulps.

Harry remembered when he had a panic episode once and no one knew what to do. Hands had grabbed him in an effort to calm him down, but it had done the exact opposite. Harry felt claustrophobic and collapsed to the floor, Louis rushing to him while everyone around them was yelling for an ambulance. Harry's head was cradled carefully in Louis' lap with Louis' fingers threading through Harry's damp hair.

Harry remembered Louis telling him to relax, his voice a soft rasp, contrasting to all the commotion surrounding them.

 _"Breathe,"_ Louis had whispered to Harry. Harry could only look up at Louis in childlike wonder. _"Count to ten and I promise you, you'll be okay."_

And Louis had been right.Harry had breathed in and out slowly and counted to ten until his breaths evened out. He stood up after a short while and people applauded, Harry thanking Louis a million times and Louis brushing it off, softly murmuring, " _It was nothing, Styles. You owe me one for saving your life."_

Despite the last comment, it wasn't nothing. It meant more to Harry than Louis could have ever imagined.

It was like that now. Except Louis wasn't holding Harry or stroking his hair. Harry drew out a long breath, already mentally counting to ten.

_One._

"Okay, sign here, Mr. Styles."

Harry bit his lower lip, scribbling out his neat, box-like signature on the form.

_Two._

"And here, Mr. Tomlinson."

Louis did as she told, his hand flying across the document to fill in his own messy handwriting.

_Three._

Harry relaxed in his seat only to undermine his own point and quickly stand up, the chair skidding across the floor in the process. Through the clear glass, he caught sight of Isabella hugged in a woman's arms in the other room.

"Oh, there she is."

_Four._

Harry went over to grab Isabella, cooing at the little bundle in his arms. Isabella began to fidget profusely in Harry's arms, kicking her feet against his chest wildly. She was doing that pout that she always did before she began crying, her face sour and her little fists pounding on Harry's chest.

_Five._

Louis ran over to them, digging his hands into his back pockets. As soon as Isabella caught sight of him, she cried louder and extended her arms towards him.

"Hey, look, wanna go with Tommo? Go with Uncle Tommo."

_Six._

Harry gently handed Isabella over, Louis securely hoisting Isabella in his arms with her head resting on his chest. Isabella quieted down, sucking on her thumb and fluttering her eyes shut.

"Oh, God. We should get her home."

_Seven._

Louis nodded and hugged Isabella tighter to his chest. Harry saw the thick lines of tendons stretching on either side of Louis' column and wondered if Louis felt the same weird tightness in his throat as he did. The intrusion only became stronger when Harry realized that Isabella was the only thing they had left that reminded them of Zayn and Liam. They had their home movies and picture albums and memories of course, but Isabella was them,  _truly them_. Isabella had Zayn's mannerisms and Liam's kindness. She was _them_. And in some way, it was as if Zayn and Liam were still here. Louis and Harry had to do whatever it took to protect Isabella at all costs. And Harry knew Louis would go further than to protect her; Louis _did_  have a long streak of getting into pub fights if someone as so much harassed his friends the wrong way. Louis was overprotective of the people he cared about and Harry respected that.

_Eight._

Harry shared a small smile with Louis, his hand lifting to cradle Isabella's tiny head. Louis exhaled deeply and bit down on the thin cushion of his top lip.

_Nine._

Harry hesitated for a moment before leaning in and hooking his chin on Louis' shoulder. He felt Louis' body stiffen underneath him until he seemed to relax enough to lean back into Harry's touch. Under any other circumstance, Harry knew Louis would have complained and pushed him away, probably would have muttered, "You're going soft on me, H." But for some odd reason, Louis didn't, and Harry didn't question him about it either.

Truth been told, Harry was scared he was going to unseam this delicate moment they stitched together. Harry wasn't about to rip apart the threads anytime soon.

_Ten._

Harry breathed out of his nostrils hotly, Louis' lips pressed to Harry's neck, Isabella sleeping and squished between their chests.

Everything was going to be okay. Louis had promised.


	5. I Can Feel The Pressure I Know The Pain And The Hurt

* * *

Louis noticed Isabella had finally fallen asleep and took a swig out of his beer bottle. He shouldn't be drinking at all considering he was at that age of earning himself a beer belly, but,  _fuck it_ , he was already stressed out beyond belief.

It hadn't even been a whole week of this whole commitment thing and Louis was already itching to get back to his regular life. Louis' ratty, old sofa and cheap wine had never sounded better than right now when he was supposed to be filling in someone else's shoes.

Louis wiped his wet mouth with the back of his hand and entered the living room to see Harry sitting cross-legged on the sofa. Harry was chewing on the eraser of the pencil, his eyebrows furrowed in deep concentration.

"They definitely didn't think this through."

"We need to establish a sleep schedule. It's very important."

Louis narrowed his eyes at Harry in confusion, plopping down sideways on the sofa with his feet propped up on the middle of the coffee table.

"What?"

"I guess...what? What did you say?"

"I said they didn't think any of this through." Louis waved his hand in the air for emphasis. "Did Liam say anything to you about this? Or Zayn? 'Cause they didn't tell me anything about this."

Harry looked up from the notepad he was scribbling on, his lips pursed to the side and the pencil now stuck behind his ear. The pencil was half-hidden by the curls licking at his temples, his strands of hair long enough to curl below the nape of his neck.

"Nope."

Louis sighed exasperatedly, mouthing around the opening of the bottle. He released the alcoholic beverage with a pop, a drop of liquid glistening on the center of his lips. He thumbed it off, Harry staring at Louis' mouth for a few moments before going back to his reading. Heat began to gather on Louis' cheeks from the way Harry had stared at him, but he brushed it off quickly. Louis licked his lips slowly, the sudden wave of conversation whooshing into his brain from where he left off.

"This is not the kind of thing you just forget to mention. "Hey, Tommo, you see that Laker game last night where Kobe put that juke on that bloke then hit the fadeaway jumper in the end to win it? Oh, and by the way, if I die I'm gonna leave you with my kid." It's messed up!"

Louis leaned back on the sofa, his arms draped gracefully over the cushions. His voice was high-pitched and raspy, almost nearing to a hostile tone.

"Zayn was a planner," Harry explained. "We are part of a plan."

"You wanna walk me through this plan? Are we supposed to live in this house together? Share the place, both sleep deprived? Because that sounds like a compelling psych experiment." Harry laughed humorlessly at this point which made Louis even angrier than he already was. "Assuming of course you and I could even afford to pay for this place."

Harry set his book face down and placed his hands on his lap, his face showing no emotion.

"Andy already said the mortgage has been covered."

Louis started counting on his fingers with every expense that came from owning a house that costed more than their paychecks combined.

"What about the upkeep? Or the utilities? Or the taxes? Do you have any idea what the  _nut_  on a place like this is a month?" Louis leaned forward in his place on the sofa, the skin beside his eyes crinkling with concern. "Liam was a junior partner at a law firm. I don't make this kind of money! And what do you do? You bake  _scones_  for a  _living_?" He carefully enunciated each word as if he was making fun of Harry's profession.

"I run a successful business, Tommo. I do pretty well for myself actually."

Louis' eyes dropped to Harry's lap. There was a notepad tucked between Harry's crossed ankles in which he had notes scrawled all over it. In Harry's other hand, he held a book that was titled  _The Sh!t No One Tells You: A Guide to Surviving Your Baby's First Year_.  _Funny, that._ Louis snorted and looked up to see Harry's eyes boring into his, the green color intense even from a few feet away.

"Yeah? Well, running a baby is not like running a bakery."

"I didn't say it was."

Louis' voice pitched higher, the stretched vein right above his clavicle visibly pronounced. Harry raised his eyebrows at Louis, amused at how much Louis was getting worked up.  _Christ_ , it wasn't even 9 a.m. and Louis' temples were already throbbing with a new headache.

"They're a mess. They pee on things. They bite. They're basically dogs." Harry's face broke out into genuine, soft laughter at that, the book he had been so severely invested in was now completely forgotten. "Except at least a dog knows not to lick the electrical sockets."

As if on cue, Isabella started wailing in the background, fussing and crying out choked sobs.

"Oh, she's up."

Harry stood up immediately to tend Isabella with Louis following closely behind. Isabella was standing up in her crib, her face completely red with tears staining her cheeks. Louis glanced worriedly at Harry before both men approached her cautiously.

"Hey, look at the sleepyhead."

"Hi, honey. Hi."

Louis was about to pick Isabella up when hands smacked his open arms away. He looked at the culprit with a questioning glare, his eyebrows seaming inwards at the contact from where Harry was holding him back. He looked from Harry's long fingers wrapping all the way around his own wrist to Harry's flushed face.

"No, don't pick her up. Don't pick her up."

"Why?"

"Because she needs to learn how to self-soothe. It's really important."

Louis squinted his eyes at Harry for what seemed like the tenth time that day. Harry had probably gone mental with his absurd theory, all bright eyes and sharp teeth snagging on his lower lip. If this was an action comic book, a drawn light bulb hanging over Harry's head would have been long overdue.

"She needs to  _what?"_

"Self-soothe. Soothe herself. I just read it, Tommo, it's important. Let's just give it a minute."

Isabella kept crying, throwing her hands in the air for someone to pay her enough attention to pick her up. Louis resisted the urge to reach out to grab her and instead stayed put, glancing at Harry every so often and waiting for him to make the first move. Harry forced a happy smile on his face and clapped his hands together cheerfully.

"Everything's okay. Happy, happy girl!"

When that didn't seem to work, Harry swung his arms in the air stupidly but held back. Knowing Harry's obsession with pregnant mothers and babies, Louis knew he was dying to pick Isabella up at the first sight of her tear-stained face. Harry seemed to be in deep thought before he snapped his fingers and smiled manically.

"You know what? Let's just sing a song. We'll sing a song. Um, uh, the wheels on the bus go round and round..." Louis caught on quickly, both men singing along, "Round and round, round and round. The wheels on the bus go round and round. All through the town," while clapping their hands to the beat of the song.

Their singing voices died down in their cotton-filled mouths.  _Fuck_. How did that nursery rhyme go again? It was as if the words following  _all through the town_ became a little blurry like a drunken dream or the way sometimes Louis had a forgotten name sitting on the tip of his tongue but, for the life of him, he couldn't remember.

Harry's, "The, um, I don't know," made Louis cringe. Louis scratched the top of his head in search for the right words. He remembered the infamous scene in  _Speed_  where Keanu Reeves saved the bus, the light bulb going off in bright sparks beside his head instead.

"And then Keanu Reeves saves the bus—"

"Nice."

_Fucking genius is what Louis was._

"Saves the bus, saves the bus and then Keanu Reeves saves the bus and then he...that's all I got."

"He dies. Does he die? I don't know."

Harry pouted his lips, pink flesh pinched between his fingers with one hand settled on his hip. He jerked his head to the left and stepped forward.

"Um, okay, maybe she's hungry. I think she's hungry. I'm gonna feed her. Hi, c'mon, let's go eat."

Harry picked up a red-faced Isabella and left to the kitchen, leaving Louis with his lips agape. Louis closed his mouth shut and looked after them, thumbing back to the empty crib.

"I thought we weren't picking her up?"

Harry carefully placed Isabella in her high chair and scrambled to fix something for her to eat. Louis stared at Isabella's crying face for a few seconds before joining Harry in the kitchen where he was mixing a weird food combination in the blender. Hands cradled a cold beer, Louis leaning against the kitchen countertop and watching Harry's best attempts at trying to keep it all together. It was Louis' turn to be amused at Harry's flustered face, the highest points of Harry's cheekbones colored a bright pink.

"Okay, Isabella, sweetheart. I'm almost done."

Harry tapped his fingers on the outside of the blender impatiently, Louis looking over Harry's shoulder. An odd color of green was whirring by the inside of the four plastic walls, Louis wondering vaguely if it was mushed peas. Knowing Harry, it was probably a 4-star exquisite something-related-to-kale meal to trick a baby into thinking it was simple food. Or edible,  _if that._

A smile teased Louis' lips, his sing-song words whispering over Harry's skin, "She's not a food critic. She's a one-year-old."

Harry opened up the cabinets to retrieve a small bottle of Oregano, twisting the cap with his right hand to sprinkle the spice into the weird-looking baby mush.  _Alien food_ , Louis promptly decided,  _is what it looked more like._

"I know that, Tommo. I'm not gonna feed her just anything."

"They're gonna feed you sometime today, Isabella, I promise. Hopefully before you're two."

Louis downed the rest of his beer, the liquid soothing the burning in the back of his throat. He flicked his fringe out of his eyes with a delicate wrist, squinting his eyes at Harry who was keeping busy preparing Isabella's food.

"So, tell me, what does Isabella do to your, um, dreams of ever meeting a bloke and having your own baby? You even thought about that? You know, a lad your type and age already has a hard enough time competing for the few blokes out there who don't suck."

"I'm sorry, did you just say a lad my age?" Harry asked Louis incredulously, the skin where Louis' hot breath washed over him prickling with goosebumps. "You do realize you're older than me, right?"

"In the dating world, you wouldn't even be considered single, you know that? You know what you'd be? Complicated.  _Beyond_  complicated."

Blue eyes followed his movements as Harry rushed over to the drawer and struggled to open it. Harry helplessly yanked on the handle a few times before whipping around to face Louis.

"You don't know anything about me, Tommo."

"Well, I know that you can't open a baby-proof drawer."

Harry looked beneath the drawer to see the lock and unhinged it open. "Oh, there it is." Louis' words taunted Harry even from where he was standing a couple of feet away. Harry sighed and took out the spoon he was looking for, shutting the drawer closed and pushing Louis out of the way.  _Louis was such a menace, Christ._

"Why are you trying _so hard_  to convince me not to help her?"

"I'm not trying to convince you not to help her. I'm just trying to do what's best for her."

Harry scooped the rest of the blended porridge into the bowl, rising his shoulders only to let them fall. His hair fell in his eyes, Harry looking back at Louis through endless rows of dark eyelashes.

"I think you're trying to do what's best for you, Tommo."

"No, I'm trying to do what's best for her. Okay? And you know what? We're not it."

Harry threw the spoon in the bowl and turned his body towards Louis. He gripped the edge of the countertop with white-knuckled fists, his lower lip trembling with the unspoken words he had thought of since the day he found out they were going to raise Isabella together.

"They loved Isabella more than anything in the entire world and out of everyone, Tommo, they picked us. They picked  _us_."

Louis' lips parted, no fighting words escaping his mouth. Harry took Louis' silence as the initiative to leave, carrying the bowl in both hands and walking over to Isabella who was still crying and squirming in her high chair.

"I'm coming. Check this out. I think you're gonna love it. Taste sensation. Ready?"

Harry pulled up a chair in front of Isabella and scooped up a bit of gooey food, the spoon inches away from Isabella's wailing mouth. When he tried to pry it into her mouth, Isabella shook her head and began fussing in her high chair, tilting her head away in every possible direction from the forced-feeding spoon.

"Mmm. No? Oh, c'mon. Just try it, Bella. Just try it. I think you're gonna love it. Just try it. C'mon, Bella, give it a try. Oh, please?"

Louis scratched the reddening skin underneath the slight stubble on his jaw. He cracked the joints on his thumbs and began to open and close cabinets, Isabella's cries only succeeding in giving him louder and longer pressing beats to his temples. He opened up a cabinet to reveal a tube of Pringles flavored salt & vinegar. He mouthed, "Victory," looking over to see Harry smearing green puree on Isabella's cheek.  _You win some, you lose some._

"Mmm, mmm. Yum, yum, yum."

Isabella cried harder, her mouth opening up on a high-pitched wail. Harry took this opportunity to shove the spoonful of mash into her mouth. Isabella clamped her mouth shut, her face contorting one into disgust at the odd flavor of the food.

"There you go. Good girl. Bell—"

Isabella coughed, the mush flying in the air to land on Harry's cheek unexpectedly. Harry gasped, Louis' footsteps prodding louder near him. Louis poured Pringles in the space before her, Isabella looking up at him with wide eyes. Isabella popped a potato crisp into her open mouth. Harry remained silent and watched for Isabella's reaction. Isabella chewed silently before her face lit up in delight and munched on another crisp.

"So you honestly think we're the best thing for her?" Louis asked with his jaw clenched, placing the Pringles on top of the kitchen island before leaving the quiet space.

Harry was stunned, the only sound in the kitchen was Isabella's crunching. He was starting to doubt his ability to become a father figure.

Were _they the best thing for her?_

*

Men and women alike were dressed in their loveliest pressed suits and black gowns. The chatter of people buzzed in the soft atmosphere, their voices soft-spoken.

Loved ones had gathered to Zayn's and Liam's house after the memorial service, their house that once used to be swept up with loud parties and pinged with laser light shows was now calm and strange with hushed voices carrying over the sounds of scraping forks and fizzling drinks.

Snooty neighbors were formed in a half-circle, sipping alcoholic beverages out of flutes with proper etiquette. There was champagne for the adults and apple cider for the children as it was a somber event, but not so solemn as to prevent family and friends from letting loose and maybe sharing a laugh or two in remembrance of Zayn's and Liam's wild nights. Zayn and Liam had spent most of their pre-Isabella lives throwing parties that it would have been a dishonor to their reputations to not include alcohol in their post-funeral gathering. They were quite the party animals before Isabella came along.

"Well, that was a beautiful service. I did not know that's how they met."

"Oh, that story about Paris. Are you kidding me?" Jade looked towards Perrie with clear confusion clouding her face. "What's gonna happen with the baby? Do we know?"

"Oh, yeah, you didn't hear?" Perrie glanced around the room before lowering her voice, almost like she was telling a sacred secret. "They named one of their friends. The single boy who bakes—"

"And the super hot one that always smells like so good and sweaty," Luke added casually, his partner Ashton, who was holding up their daughter, looking at him with raised eyebrows.

"That's interesting. So he'll be around."

"Good."

Perrie's husband, Alex, frowned, the sharp prongs of his fork bumping into his plate.

"What did you mean by "so good and sweaty?""

After the whole incident with Isabella and the flying food, the last thing that was in Harry's mind was taking care of her as his real daughter as he initially intended to do. Maybe Louis' words had a huge reason in their decision to scout family members in search for Isabella's new guardian but,  _still_ , Harry was taking all the chances he could get.

Louis and Harry both led busy lives and it wasn't that Isabella was _interrupting_  that, per say, but in all honesty, Harry wasn't so sure they could live up to the potential Zayn and Liam saw in them.  _Matter of fact, what the hell were Zayn and Liam thinking anyways?_ It would have made sense if Louis and Harry were actually together, but they  _weren't_ , and raising a child with two people that couldn't stand each other didn't necessarily paint a pretty picture. So, family members it was. Plus, it wouldn't be that hard to find an eligible guardian to take care of Isabella.  _Right?_

Harry set down a plate filled with food in front of an elderly man and smiled politely at him. His long legs extended in wide steps to reach his mother Anne. He put a hand to Anne's shoulder, smiling down at her gratefully.

"Mum, thank you so much for being here this week. I couldn't have done it without you."

Anne craned her neck upwards and smiled sincerely, the skin beside her eyes crinkling. Her hair was pushed up from her forehead with her posh sunglasses, a delicate hand giving Harry a tight squeeze on the hip before cradling Isabella to her chest snugly.

"You're welcome, honey."

"Do you mind watching her for another minute? I gotta go talk to Tommo and some family members."

Anne nodded as Harry squeezed her shoulder kindly and walked over to Louis, noting how Isabella was acting like the perfect little angel for his mum. Harry scoffed at himself. Maybe he wasn't cut out to be a dad  _or maybe_  Isabella was just trying to make his life harder. He decided on the latter and approached Louis, signaling him to come over. Louis stood up quickly, one hand smoothing down the lapels of his speckled suit with his other holding a sweating beer.

"Tommo, there's a lot of them."

"Well, we just need to find one."

Harry nodded and they proceeded to venture into the masses of people. It was a silent agreement for them to split apart and talk to family members alone, that way they could cover up more ground without having to waste precious time. If everything seemed hopeless, they would unite in the end and tackle on Liam's father as he was their last and only resort of getting out of the mess that Zayn and Liam destined for them to take.

Harry had appreciated Zayn's zen view of life, but lately he was starting to abhor every word Zayn had once said that had to do with  _fate_  and  _destiny_  and especially that God awful motto of his:  _Just close your eyes and enjoy the roller coaster that is life_.

_It was all bullshit._

Harry sauntered towards a woman with rebellious curly hair and looked over his shoulder to see Louis was already staring back at him. Louis offered Harry two energetic thumbs up before turning back around, Harry dropping his head and smiling softly.

"So I understand you're Liam's cousin," Louis strained his voice over the sound of kids yelling in the background.

Children ranging from all ages were running up and down the stairs, a few of them crashing into Louis' back and slipping and sliding on the polished floorboards. Louis loved kids as much as the next bloke, but he was doing everything in his power to not yell at the top of his voice and scold the little scoundrels into a single respectful file.

Louis smiled with his lips pressed shut, wild commotion behind him like an untamed circus. It only took a moment for one of them to fall off the banister, Louis pursing his lips and keeping his eyes trained on Liam's cousin's face.

"Hey! Don't climb that! Hey, hey! Who is that? Tyler?" Liam's cousin's— _Randy? Riley?_ Louis wasn't good with names—face scrunched up like he couldn't figure out a difficult maths problem.

"Mason," Ross' wife replied calmly.

"Mason, take a seat right now. Let's go." Ross turned to Louis to say, "Eight kids."

"Eight kids?" Louis said in an astonished statement rather than a question. "You guys have  _eight kids_?"

"Nine, dear," Ross' wife whispered behind him, sliding her eyes over to Louis' surprised face.

"Nine. Right." Ross blew hot air out of his lips, nodding to himself and chuckling quietly. "Baseball team."

Ross smiled tightly, Louis' lips mirroring his grimace.

_ Ross _ _crossed off the list._

Louis gritted his teeth behind closed lips, his grip tightening around the neck of the beer bottle. He rolled his head on his neck, nibbling on his lower lip and hoping Ross wouldn't notice his unsettled demeanor. His gaze drifted above the heads of people, automatically searching for a familiar head full of curly hair. He stopped when it landed on not one but _two_ curly heads, the corners of his mouth twitching upwards.

Louis only hoped Harry was doing better than he was. Harry's charm was always so easily swallowed up by guests and new friends. While Louis would stand in the corner and roll his eyes until he nearly blinded himself, people would be flocking over to Harry like a sea of birds, tuning in to every word that fell from his lips. He never understood why people were always so enchanted by Harry but looking at him now from across the room without excessively rolling his eyes, he finally understood why. From the way Harry leaned in with attentive, vibrant green eyes to the way he carried himself by clasping his hands behind his back in a boyish manner—it was all too endearing. Harry's magnetic spellbind better pull some strings or else they would be in big trouble.

"I had to come for Zayn," Sasha, Zayn's cousin, said in a trembling voice, an embroidered napkin dabbing underneath her right eye.

"Yeah. Thank you." Harry nodded, crossing his arms over his chest.

"And I was in tour in London so..."

"Oh, on tour?" Harry piped up.

Harry started mentally scanning for Zayn's long list of family cousins and not one of their job listings have mentioned any sort of fame. Looking from the curly wisps of hair framing Sasha's face and a tasteful emerald dress hugging her curves in all the right ways, Harry supposed she resembled the female embodiment of rockstar Mick Jagger.

"Are you performing anywhere that I would know?"

"I'm dancing at Platinum Lace London tonight. And then SophistiCats Tuesday's through Saturdays."

Harry's lips parted open in a shocked sigh, the revelation stunning him with open curiosity rather than judgement. He remembered Louis mentioning he used to hold meetings at a strip club, specifically SophistiCats, for his raunchier directors.

 _Ah_. That also explained the neckline of Sasha's dress dipping well below her collarbones, the material drawn tight across her chest and exposing her cleavage.

"Oh, how exciting. That's really exciting."

_ Sasha _ _crossed off the list._

Louis and Harry were sitting down on a white plush couch across from Liam's father Geoff. Louis' back was hunched with his forearms hanging off his knees, his hands clasped together tightly. Harry's fingers were laced on top of his knees, his left leg crossed towards Louis.

While they were engaging in pleasant conversation, Isabella was sitting down to Harry's left by his feet and playing absentmindedly. Geoff was so old that he had to carry a portable oxygen tank with him everywhere he went. A nasal cannula was attached to his nostrils and fastened with an oxygen supply tube that ran along his frail body.

"It's really good for Isabella that she gets to see her grandfather."

Geoff smiled faintly, admiring Isabella who was still playing quietly. Even though Isabella was adopted, it was like looking in a time warp mirror between two different generations. Isabella looked just like Geoff, her cheeks as soft as his skin was paper thin. Brown hair tucked behind her ears similar to Geoff's, her lopsided smile so alike his that it was a perfect contrast between young and seniority. Isabella looked up at Geoff with wide brown eyes, her eyes the color of umber. As Liam was Geoff's only son, he had wanted his adopted child to look as much as his father did, and by the comparison of Isabella and Geoff, Liam had achieved exactly that.

"She looks just like Liam."

"I think she looks just like you."

Geoff raised his eyebrows, Isabella crawling towards him on all fours in her tone down dress and polished shoes. Although Isabella looked like Liam and his father, her personality shown much too alike Zayn's. While she looked like a baby gap model in one minute, the next one her image was completely forgotten with her clothes crumpled and dirt smudged on her hands and knees. The sudden reminder of Isabella painting with Zayn bore into Harry's heart all too sharply, Harry swallowing past the bitter ache in his throat.

"So you have a house in Miami now?" Harry posed a question, looking for any sort of distraction. 

Geoff's mouth opened up to speak when Louis interrupted him before he even got a chance to utter a single word.

"Yeah, because we, you know, we were hoping...giving that Isabella is your only grandchild..." Louis licked his lips, starting all over again. "Well, it seems to make the most sense—"

Naturally, that was when Isabella yanked the nasal cannula away from Geoff's nostrils, the tube flying out of control. The prongs spewed air as it flapped on the ground wildly like a fish without water, Geoff coughing uncontrollably. More like Geoff without oxygen.

"Oh! Isabella! No, no, no."

Harry scrambled to catch the spurting tube as Louis hurried to pick up Isabella.

"I'm  _so_  sorry."

Harry gave the nasal cannula back to Geoff, looking over his shoulder to see Isabella staring at them innocently. Silent laughter sparkled in Isabella's doe-eyed face that resembled Zayn's puppy eyes far too much.  _Hmm, wondered where she learned that from._

"You okay?"

Geoff nodded helplessly, still coughing out choked breaths and pressing the tube to his nostrils like a precious inhaler.

"Good as new," Harry laughed nervously, gently patting Geoff's back.

Louis sat down with Isabella in his lap. His smile widened into a grin, Louis holding up Isabella's wrists and waving them around the air triumphantly.

"Still breathing!"

Harry mimicked Louis' wild hand gestures and punctured out a weak, "Yay!"

The realization from the incident was a clear response as to whether or not Geoff would take care of Isabella dawned on both of them at the same time, their smiles fading quickly. Harry dug his hands into his hips, ignoring the long, unwavering stare he was receiving from Geoff's direction.

_ Geoff _ _, the last possible name, crossed off the list._

After everyone went home and everything was cleaned up, (without Louis' help) Louis and Harry lounged in the living room. A baby monitor sat between them on the couch, Isabella's gurgles sounding static over the radio. The night was silent and mourning just like them.

Louis toed off his uncomfortable dress shoes and threw himself on the sofa, bringing his fuzzy socks to rest on top of the coffee table. A cool beer was wrapped in his hands while Harry's eyes burned a hole on the carpet.

"Well, we could go with the nine kids family." Louis lulled his head on his neck to look at Harry, his voice a gentle tone. "I mean, they clearly know how to keep a child alive."

When no response from Harry came, Louis' mouth trembled, his ankles crossing and uncrossing.

"Stripper seemed nice."

Then Harry did look at Louis, his expression bored and his eyelashes blinking once. He pursed his lips in a pout, his arms crossing against his chest.

"Yeah. Grandpa's a definite no," Louis drew out in a long breath. He took one large gulp from his beer and sighed an exhausted, "We're screwed."

Harry could sympathize. It had been a long day of catering after snooty neighbors and upset family members. Harry's toes had been stuffed in one size too small shoes all day and he had held back tears in sake of acting strong in front of the others. He knew crying wasn't going to bring back Zayn and Liam. Even if it did, he was much too busy to let his grief smother him in a thick blanket of sorrow. He was now going to be bombarded with buying nappies at Tesco and postponing all his expansion plans at his bakery shop in lieu of saving money for all the expenses a child came with. He could see his new life unfold right in front of him—changing nappies in the loos and being that tired mother with a fussy child in public. He had no idea how in the hell he was going to manage, but he had no other option, did he?

Furthermore, all that determination to find a new guardian was now drained out of Harry, exhaustion dragging his limbs heavy. Wordlessly, Harry snatched the bottle away from Louis' fingers and swallowed down a mouthful. Louis glanced at Harry out of his peripherals, his lips twitching with a smile. He reached over and patted Harry's thigh, Harry's throat tightening and the beer suddenly turning sour inside his mouth.

Harry was brave enough to tilt his head to the right, Louis too busy focusing on his fingernails. God, was Louis insufferable at times but a  _gorgeous_  insufferable twat as well. Much too frustrated at their failed mission to find a new guardian left Louis running his hands through his hair all day. Louis' locks of hair were sticking out in all possible different directions, his fringe pushed up and a little sprig of a cowlick stood up on the back of his head. His shirttails were tucked out and Harry could make out the outlines of his braces hidden by his coat. Harry had no idea how Louis did it, but Louis Tomlinson had pulled off the sex look without even having sex.

Suddenly, everything felt too tight and Harry thought he might die because Louis was right next to him, yet it felt like he was miles away. Louis that made a booty call in front of Harry, Louis that saved Harry from a panic attack, Louis that punched a guy for Harry when he got uncomfortable with the stranger's overbearing flirting. Louis that Harry knew so well and now it felt like a hard punch to his gut because he didn't know him at all. Not really. Because Louis was a person with so many layers that Harry could never figure out. It was like a stranger was sitting next to him rather than the same pesky Louis that had been present in his whole lifetime.

"Earth to Harry." Louis waved his hand in front of Harry's face, his expression borderline smug. "Y'alright, mate?"

Harry blinked rapidly a few times, regaining consciousness. He nodded weakly, turning to look the other way and pinpointing his attention to a random picture frame hanging on the wall.

Harry possibly couldn't get drunk off one sip of beer.  _Then why did it feel like it?_


	6. With The Exception Of You, I Dislike Everyone In The Room

* * *

"Next case, the matter of Isabella Payne, Index Number 05893-01."

The security guard called forward their case number, Harry looking at Louis with wide eyes before both men stepped up to stand in front of the judge. Harry carried Isabella with one arm, his haversack filled to the brim with snacks, nappies and toys. He looped his arm out of his haversack and left it to rest on the table, sitting down with Louis mirroring him. Andy quickly urged them to stand, Louis and Harry getting to their feet abruptly while the judge continued to talk.

"Alright. I've read your submissions along with the will given that you folks were named as guardians. I see no reason to countermand the parents wishes. However, permit—"

Isabella dropped the container of Goldfish crackers to the floor, Harry's open-mouthed shock causing Louis to drop down to his knees. Harry stooped low and helped Louis gather the Goldfish crackers in one hand, Isabella pressed between their chests. Andy mouthed a sincere apology to the judge, who firmly pressed her lips in a thin line. He hunched over and tapped Louis on the shoulder.

"Guys, guys, okay. Let's leave the Goldfish. What do you say we stand up?"

Louis stood up and placed the container of Goldfish on the center of the table, Harry standing behind Louis with one last scoop of Goldfish crackers. Harry straightened his posture and combed a hand through his hair only to drop it and wipe cheese on the front of his trousers.

"Sorry."

The judge fixed them with a quick glare, her head tilted at an odd angle.

"Until that time, I hereby grant joint legal and physical custody of Isabella Christine Payne to Louis Tomlinson and Harry Styles."

The judge banged the gavel on the podium once, Harry nodding and beginning to walk away. Harry hitched the haversack higher on his shoulder, a dry patch forming at the back of his throat. Louis stayed standing motiveless, his open lips pursed forward in disbelief. He extended his arms, his body frozen. Harry looked over his shoulder to stare confusedly back at Louis.

"Wh—That's it? You're not gonna ask us anything? How do you know we're not drug dealers or pimps?" Louis asked in a harsh rasp.

Harry's body bobbed with nervous laughter, his mouth parting open around a rapt breath. "Ha!"

The judge swiped off her glasses with one quick flick of her wrist, her face neutral and her voice daunting.

" _Are_  you drug dealers or pimps?"

Harry's small smile disappeared quickly. He licked his lips and shook his head rapidly.

"No, ma'am. No."

Harry pushed Louis towards the door, offering the judge a fixed smile and glowering at Louis. Louis shrugged noncommittally, his lower lip jutting out like a child's.

When they arrived at the house, Harry twisted the key inside the lock and shoved the door open, Louis moving past Harry and carrying Isabella in his right arm. Isabella was almost slipping from Louis' embrace, her leg and tummy tucked far enough between his arm and chest so she wouldn't fall over.

""Boom, done, next case. Here, take a kid, no take two, we got extra!""

Louis' eyebrows knitted together as he walked into the living room with Harry trailing behind. Harry ignored Louis and shoved his hand into his haversack, his fingers sorting through wet towelettes and remnant Goldfish crumbs. His brows furrowed, the pink tip of his tongue peeking out from the left corner of his mouth in concentration.

"Where is that stupid duck she loves that drives me crazy?"

Harry successfully fished the toy out, the duck squawking annoyingly. He passed it on to Isabella, whose eyes lit up at the sight of her favorite toy. Isabella hugged the stuffed toy to her chest and started gnawing on it. Louis' words tumbled out of his mouth before Harry could even process them.

"I mean, I don't get it, man, I've been good. Some female says, "Oh, Tommo, you can forget the condom," and I say no and I still end up with a kid!"

Harry rolled his eyes and held up his hands. "Okay, look. We need to figure out a schedule. I need to work tomorrow."

Louis' face scrunched up, his nose twitching. He sniffed the air a few times, turning towards Harry with his face twisted as if he had finished sucking on a sour lemon.

"Do you smell that?"

"What?" Harry stopped in his tracks, his eyes widening comically. "Oh, maybe she finally pooped. Did she?"

Louis tilted Isabella sideways and lifted her with his hands wrapped around her legs, pressing his face to her middle. He sniffed hesitantly and rolled his neck backwards instantly, holding out Isabella at a safe distance away from him.

"Oh, yeah. Yeah, yeah." Louis' face scrunched up impossibly more as he handed one soiled Isabella over to Harry. He rubbed his hand over his nose and muttered, "I think she, um..."

"What? It's not _that_  bad." Harry lifted Isabella and sniffed, his calm face contorting into an affronted gasp. He lowly groaned,  _"Oh, Bella."_

A couple minutes later, Louis and Harry hovered over Isabella's half-naked body. Isabella was dressed in only nappies, her feet kicking out and the smile on her face coy. She was probably having the time of her life enjoying the view of her godparents' wrinkled noses.

"Such a weird smell, right?"

Harry's left arm loosely rested on his upper stomach, his right hand covering his nose.

"Okay." Louis slid his hand to Harry's lower back, patting it twice before letting his arm fall limp to his side. "Go ahead."

Louis' hands came up to rest on his hips, avoiding Harry's obvious stare and instead focusing on Isabella who was babbling nonsense on the changing table.

"What? Why me?" Harry's defensive mode flicked on like a rapid-fire switch. He pointed one stiff finger to his chest, his mouth popped open on the last syllable. "Because I'm feminine?"

"Um, yeah," Louis replied as if it was the most obvious answer in the world.

Sure, Harry had an interest in things that were culturally coded as feminine or at least considered so by the majority of the population such as painting his nails a bright red color or wearing silky shirts unbuttoned to expose his nipples, but it didn't mean he had that maternal instinct like most mothers had. If anything, Louis had more parenting skills than Harry had. Those little six siblings must have taught Louis _something._

"No! Uh-uh, Tommo! I am  _not_  changing diapers for the next two years. Get in there."

"Listen, Haz. Okay, fine, you know what?" Harry nudged Louis forward gently, Louis stumbling on his feet and huffing out a soft breath. "Easy. It's not that—"

"It's not something you can take off the checklist," Harry finished for Louis, making the universal motion of drawing a ticked off check symbol in the air. "Check."

Louis inched closer on cautious feet, his hands hanging still over Isabella's nappy before he lowered them. He poked at the stretched fabric, his fingertips fumbling over the tabs. Harry gestured to Louis' fingers and up to his blank face with one quick flick of his hand, his eyebrows twitching together.

"What are you doing?"

"I don't know what I'm doing! It's not a bra that I'm taking off a woman, it's a nappy that I'm taking off a baby...is there a box I can read?"

Maybe Harry was wrong. Maybe little six siblings weren't enough to teach Louis basic diapering skills.

"Those little six siblings taught you  _nothing?_ " Harry voiced his thoughts aloud.

"I only ever helped my mum by babysitting them, I never actually  _changed_  them. Good thinking on her part for not scarring me for life by forcing me to change their dirty nappies," Louis said with a pause, his forehead creasing. "And how do  _you_  know I have little six siblings? I've mentioned it, like, _once_."

"Just do it already, Tommo." Harry's cheeks pinked, a wisp of his hair curling on his temple. "It's not rocket science. Just take the tabs off. See those little tabs?" He gesticulated with his hands to show Louis how to properly take them off a nappy. " _Undo_  them."

Louis finally pulled the tabs off, a horrid smell racing up their nostrils. He doubled over in preparation to retch, Harry's nostrils flaring and his hand covering his mouth rapidly.

"Oh! Oh, God!"

Louis started to gag, his body bent over with his hands gripping his knees. Harry tilted his head away, breathing out of his mouth heavily and squeezing his eyes shut.

"Don't do that!"

"Ugh." Louis leaned forward and gagged again, pressing one closed fist to his mouth. "It's like slum dog millionaire in there."

"You're gonna make me throw up!" Harry smacked Louis across the shoulder meanly, his hand flying to his mouth again. "Stop!"

"She didn't eat enough to produce that! She ate like two pieces of macaroni!"

"She's got it in her toes!"

"Okay, okay! Give me the wipes!"

Harry obliged gratefully, tossing wipes in Louis' direction and Louis using one after the other. For the first time in forever, they were actually efficiently working together. No more bickering or snarky remarks, they had a goal to reach this time.

"Give me one. Another one!"

"Hurry up! Get it out of her toes!"

"It's like a poop suit. Ew!"

The doorbell rang, Louis' head snapping up to the outburst of sound. Without a second glance, Louis ran off, leaving Harry wide-eyed behind him. The phrase  _saved by the bell_  had never consisted of more truth until now.

"Tommo! Don't leave me in here!" Harry whined.

Harry stomped his foot down, staring at the wide open door. "Oh, God." He pinched his nose with his fingers, his voice nasally and strained. Tears started to prickle at the corners of his eyes as he got closer, Isabella writhing below him. "Oh, it's burning my eyes."

Louis ran down the stairs, reaching for the door handle. He heard muffled voices buzzing just outside the door. He yanked it open to reveal the nextdoor neighbors.

"Hey! Hi! Surprise!"

Louis' mouth opened in a soft gasp, his eyebrows arching high. There were the other two dads, Luke and Ashton (who were an actual gay couple) with their surrogate child Mila, Perrie and her husband Alex, who were holding up a stack of foiled meals and Jade standing next to her lanky husband Jed. From their bright eyes to their elegant getup, they looked far too thrilled to be showing up at the inexperienced parents' house.

"Here comes the block!"

"What's going on?" Louis offered a polite smile to the neighbors, the skin beside his eyes crinkling.

"Just, you know, bringing you some covered dishes and whatnot. New parents gotta stock the fridge." Perrie smiled enthusiastically, the vibrations of her excitement blooming outwards. She tapped the plastic containers with her long acrylic nails, her wide smile contagious. "One, two, three! Just 'cause!"

There was a short moment of silence before Louis' face stretched into a wide smile, beckoning them by a wave of his hand with his fingers waggling to them.

"Come on in!"

The small group of neighbors erupted into cheers, a wave of relief sighed out of them as if they mildly expected for Louis to turn them away. Louis chuckled, allowing them inside while he informed them he was going to check up on Harry.

Louis walked up the stairs two steps at a time, nearing closer to Isabella's room.

Louis heard Harry's slow, syrupy voice call inside, "Okay. Look at that, all clean!"

"Hey, the neighborhood watch is here," Louis said casually as Harry wiped a wet towelette on Isabella's tiny fingers. Harry turned around with a smile on his face, his dimple deepening. "They brought us some—"

There was something wrong about Harry. Well, more like, there was something wrong on Harry's  _face._  Where a dimple should be, Harry had a...he had...feces. Excrement, waste matter, manure, whatever you wanna call it. Harry had a dab of poop on his cheek.

His eyes widened, Louis staring at the smudge on Harry's cheek, then to Isabella, then back to his cheek again. He swallowed around the hard lump in his throat, his lips pursed downwards as he lifted a finger to point at Harry's face. He opened and closed his mouth a few times, his facial expression horrified.

"What? She's perfect. No thanks to you."

"Haz, you have a—"

"Save it, Tommo." Harry rolled his eyes, the tongue poking inside his cheek doing nothing to help his case. He handed Isabella over to Louis and brushed him off with a wave. "You big coward," he chided, starting to walk downstairs.

Louis didn't know whether to laugh or to warn Harry before the neighbors saw him. He decided on neither and settled on watching the anticipated scene unfold right in front of his eyes instead.

" _Okay,_ " Louis said mostly to himself, drawling out the world, Harry already more than halfway down the steps.

Louis followed Harry to the bottom of the stairs, Harry's brows furrowing as he held out his palms and smelled each hand in return. His mouth quivered, Louis training his face to remain as neutral as possible. He stood behind Harry with Isabella hugged to his chest, his sparkling eyes twinkling in mischief.

"Hey!" the crowd hummed out loud.

The neighbors' expressions changed from genuine happiness to appalled discomfort. Ashton and Luke tilted their heads to the left in unison. Alex's grip on the foiled dishes tightened without his self-control.

"Hey, guys, we weren't expecting you. What a surprise," Harry greeted joyously. The silence lingered, Harry's confusion clear in his scrutinized eyes. "What?"

Five seconds passed, Louis' amusement simmering down into honest shame. Louis hummed softly, the thought _maybe I should have warned Harry_  rolling around in his brain.

"Sweetie, you have shit on your face," Perrie replied sweetly.

_Nope. It was funny all over again._

Harry's body froze, his lips forming a perfect circle. Mortified, he rubbed one cheek and felt nothing, moving to touch the other cheek. He looked at his hand in panic, the neighbors looking away awkwardly and shuffling their feet. He turned his body around, avoiding Louis' smug gaze and running up the stairs in a moment of humiliation.

Louis could practically feel the heat of ten thousand suns as Harry whirled by, his neck craning to catch a glimpse of Harry's perky bum disappearing around the corner. He snuffled a quiet laugh, biting down on his tongue to silence any laughter begging to come out.

"Who's hungry?" Jade piped up, the rest of the neighbors murmuring their yeses and following her lead into the dining hall.

Louis ran his tongue along the back of his teeth. He ran up the stairs and heard the rush of water running down the sink, the bathroom door ajar. He walked just in time to see Harry scrubbing a wet towel to his cheek, scowling at his reflection in the mirror.

Louis tip-toed inside quietly, his lips still pressed together tightly to suppress mocking laughter. Harry didn't even acknowledge Louis' existence, continuing to rub at his cheek until the skin flushed pink.

"You got a little more, on the right—" Louis began saying, pointing a finger at a spot on Harry's reddened cheek.

"Just...shut up," Harry cut Louis off, wringing the towel taut and whipping Louis' hand away. "I swear," he muttered angrily, checking Louis against the wall and shutting the door behind himself silently.

And,  _oh,_ this kid could be riled up enough to throw a fit, but Harry was a gentleman in the weirdest ways possible, never one for slamming doors.

"Just trying to help," Louis concluded with sparkling eyes, the smirk on his face evident of how pleased he was with himself.

As soon as Harry was gone, Louis doubled over in laughter, slapping a hand over his knee. Louis' laughter grew from breathy chuckles to full-blown laughter, tears shining in the inner corners of his eyes. He dragged one hand down his face, Isabella looking up at him with wide brown eyes. As if Isabella could read his mind, she extended one tiny palm for a high-five. That sent Louis into another flurry of giggles, little sighs escaping his mouth as he lightly slapped her hand in victory.

Louis could already tell they were going to be thick as thieves.

*

After the whole Harry-got-feces-on-his-cheek-and-didn't-realize-it-until-later accident, their nextdoor neighbors were kind enough to drop the embarrassing memory, popping open a bottle of wine and settling themselves down to eat instead. Harry was more than happy for the distraction, he needed to overdrink on all the Brandy tonight in order to numb the fresh recollection of the poop disaster. From this moment on, Harry swore he would never clean Isabella without checking his face in the mirror afterwards. Or maybe Harry should just let Louis do the cleaning up.

The lights in the dining hall were dimmed to a soft glow. Silverware clattered against plates, ice cubes tinkled in glasses and small conversations were made amongst the couples. Louis made his way around the table and carefully refilled everybody's half-empty wine glasses.

"You guys doing okay with Isabella? You look a little tired."

Louis finished pouring wine in the last glass, kicking back his chair and comfortably seating himself. He sat down next to Harry, their chairs close enough that their shoulders brushed together.

"That would be the not sleeping," Louis spoke unceremoniously, his posture relaxed.

The dim lights overhead cast a halo around Louis' head, gold flecks enhancing the blue of his eyes. The tips of Louis' long eyelashes were of a goldenrod color, his eyelids shimmering. Louis shifted his bum on the seat, the movement causing the light to hit his face at just the right angle. He suddenly looked so much younger when he wasn't bantering with Harry, no trace of lines by his eyes.

"You don't look that tired," Luke complimented dreamily with his chin in his palm just as Jade added, "Doesn't show."

Louis grinned, the crinkles beside his eyes appearing now, a flush dusting the high points of his sharp cheekbones. He offered them those opened-mouth smiles that Harry hardly ever received, his smile genuine and bright even in the dark room. Harry rolled his eyes at that, his own smile dimming. But it was true, wasn't it? No matter how well they got along, Harry could never get Louis to throw his head back in laughter the way it so easily came with others. And even when Harry could, they were never  _because_  of him, they were always  _at_  him.

Heat tendrils licked the base of Harry's neck, his fingertips rubbing over the burning skin.

_Jealousy. Was that what that felt like?_

"Don't worry because you're not gonna sleep for ten years. Surprise!"

The crash of waves pounding in Harry's ears diminished until they lapped the shores. Harry swallowed dryly, leaning forward in his seat and tuning back into the conversation.

"And you're never gonna get used to the children's music.  _Never_ ," Alex had finished saying, Harry nodding along. "If I knew where the Wiggles lived, and I'm working on it, I would murder them with an AK47. I'm very serious."

Both Louis and Harry knew that all too well. Spending time in the back of Zayn's and Liam's Honda with a children's song on loop had become familiar like the back of their hands. It had always bordered on painful before, but Harry was starting to miss it now. Harry huffed out breathless laughter, Louis' ankle nudging Harry's underneath the table.

_Oh, and now what? They were twelve-year-old's again? They were playing Adult Version Footsie Episode: Blushing Virgins?_

"You know, no new parents, I don't think any of us knew what we were doing one bit."

Harry glanced sideways, watching Louis chew on the inside of his lower lip. Louis ducked his head and pressed a fist to his cheek, his elbow resting on the table. The smile on his face was small but gentle. Almost playful. Suddenly, the race between jealousy and endearment were battling it out, one struggling to come out on top.

"That's true. I mean, we had nine months to get ready and we still screw up about half the time."

Perrie nudged Alex's shoulder, her eyebrow quirking. "Sure does."

"No, I said  _we_  actually."

Everyone in the table chimed in laughter, eyes alight and conversation flowing smoothly. Louis dropped his shoulders forward, tilting his head towards Harry and snuffling quiet laughter. Perrie crossed her arms against her chest, the laughter surrounding the couple raising in volume. Louis caught Harry's eye and nudged up his chin towards their neighbors, his smirk softening into a gentle smile.

The battle was over, endearment a clear winner. It felt as though Louis' smile was directed towards Harry and to be completely and one hundred percent honest, it felt...nice.  _Different_  but nice.

"D'you know what?" Perrie chatted after the laughs simmered down. "I'm gonna get real serious. You gotta get two things straight. And I'm gonna say one, get a sitter."

"And the backup," Jade chimed in.

There were murmurs of agreement, Louis and Harry turning their heads towards every direction new advice came from.

"Next thing, real important, you can never have enough paper towels."

"Oh! And don't shop in the Morrisons. They're always out of milk and they don't carry the unscented wipes."

"When you order Motrin make sure you get the diet free."

"Oh, no BPA's, sippy cups, any plastics. You don't want those chemicals."

It was like a game of Quickfire, their neighbors shooting comments right after one finished speaking. Harry swallowed audibly, Louis craning his neck and his wide baby blue eyes giving the illusion that his easy-going exterior had vanished all too quickly.

"I know Zayn wanted Isabella to go to Big Wagon Preschool, so you  _may_  wanna start thinking about making some donations."

"Okay, um." Harry made the motion of scribbling on an invisible notepad. "Maybe we should start to write this down."

Harry scratched behind his ear, his eyes slipping shut. Louis' fingers were pressed to his mouth, his small smile sliding off his face.

"Oh," Louis' drawn-out breath hissed from his mouth.

Louis nodded sternly and scooted back in his chair to stand up. Harry smiled with his lips pressed to the rim of the wine glass, tilting his head back and swallowing tightly. When Louis came back with two notepads along with two colorful ink pens, the table full of people burst into easy laughter. It was almost like they were taking on the role of Santa, scrawling down child-friendly items and necessary utensils they were going to need later on. Louis' foot nudged Harry's ankle underneath the table again and this time Harry nudged back.

The weird thing about this whole affair was that Harry previously thought he was going to do this alone. Harry had actually made himself believe he was in this by himself with no one else's help. Then it suddenly hit him like an oncoming freight train because Louis was  _right there_  with him. Maybe had been since the very beginning.

The thought of Louis thumbing Isabella's tears off her cheeks and chasing after her with a small football sat bitter in the back of Harry's throat, like a lingering taste he couldn't quite get rid of. Harry tried to ignore the feeling creeping up, but it only rose back ashore.

Harry couldn't comprehend how Louis would be willing to alter his life to make room for Isabella. He couldn't envision Louis abandoning his bachelor pad lifestyle to adapt to a family home. He especially couldn't imagine a life where he himself wasn't discreetly watching over Louis at the pubs, always there to catch him if he fell over or when he couldn't walk straight or tuck him into bed afterwards.

It was this thing they did, Louis and Harry. They fought for endless days and sometimes made the other one rip out their own hair, but,  _still_ , they looked after each other.  _Granted_ , done privately, but it was still there. It had always been there. Harry didn't know what to do with that kind of information.

It was Louis that picked on him until Harry got red-faced and flustered, but it was Louis that had been handling being Isabella's new guardian so well. Harry took a quiet sip of wine and briefly wondered if he had underestimated Louis the whole time.

Harry watched Louis scribble down advise after advise with the same uncanny appearance of a university student hurrying to take notes before the professor wiped the whiteboard clean.

Louis tapped his thumb on the stack of notes that were already starting to pile up. He arched his eyebrow, Harry staring at him in silence. Louis' mouth stretched slowly into a smile, that gentle smile again. It was enough for Harry to hold the stem of his wine glass firmly, swirl the wine inside and watch the streaks coat the sides of the glass. With one quick sniff, Harry tipped his head back and let the sweet taste spread across his tongue from front to back before swallowing.

It was going to be a long night.


	7. I've Been Trying To Fix My Pride, But That Shit's Broken

* * *

Harry hated himself for saying it, but Louis was right once again.

Running a baby was not like running a bakery as it seemed so hard to believe. Harry thought that since he was experienced with waking up at unforgiving hours of the morning, it would give him an advantage to this whole raising a baby ordeal.

A baker's typical day went something like this. It started bright and early, Harry usually waking up before 4 a.m. so he could get to the shop and start preparing the day's bakery products by 5 a.m. Harry first started off by sanitizing the kitchen and preparing the dough for sweet bread and biscuits for the early risers that loved to stop by for freshly baked biscuits. Then, he would clean out the baking bins and complete an inventory of the goods he needed to bake. Once that was done, he would begin to mix the ingredients needed for the products such as whole grains and cheese for scones.

Normally, Harry would have called in the other bakers to help him out a long time ago, but ever since that one incident where James burnt a fresh batch of paleo banana bread which had customers complaining mercilessly for restless days, he didn't think he would start calling them anytime soon. Plus, he took pride in lifting all the heavy work and preened under the attention he received from people commending him for his hard efforts.

So it was only common sense that Harry's hectic early morning schedule would make him believe he would have no problem startling awake to put a fussy Isabella back to sleep no matter if it was at the crack of dawn. Harry was hilariously wrong. Isabella's sleep schedule was all over the place. And even though Louis and Harry split the days evenly, Harry found himself tackling on more morning duties than usual. However, Louis was lifting up his side of the work too.

Maybe it was because Harry had pride. Or because he was trying to prove to a point. Or because he felt bad when Louis stumbled into Isabella's room in a half-zombie state with his shirt crumpled and pillow creases littered on his cheeks.

Nonetheless, Harry was tired. Not to mention that his skin had gotten paler and dark circles were prominent underneath his eyes. Harry felt like the days were getting away from him in a scurry.

Louis and Harry finally tacked up a chart with a schedule figured out that worked for both of them, orange and yellow sticky notes with designated times and Remind Me's taped to most of the days; orange for Harry and yellow for Louis.

A lot of things happened over the course of a few months.

Louis hadn't mastered the art of changing nappies, for starters. He always doused Isabella's bare bottom and nappy with too much white baby powder, enough to wipe off her clean, natural baby smell.

Louis and Harry would end up bickering over the calendar days lightheartedly, Louis pushing Harry away by a hand on his face and Harry cackling like a hyena in the background.

Showertime consisted of Louis holding Isabella up while Harry showered her off with an adjustable shower head, spraying Louis while he was at it. Louis would laugh, "Okay! Can you get the baby? Alright!" while Harry chose to ignore him and continue to hose him down, a smile always playing on his raspberry tainted lips.

Louis would agree happily to take Isabella to Whole Foods to buy groceries. All kinds of unimaginable tastes were awaiting their arrival in the aisle of Gerber food, flavors ranging from sweet potatoes to chicken & rice. Louis would uncap each bottle for Isabella to sniff, Isabella nodding if she approved or shaking her head if she disapproved.  _Good method, innit?_  Harry would always beg Louis to bring home the bananas kind and Louis would always forget them on purpose. Louis knew Harry would eat them for himself instead of feeding them to Isabella,  _the dumb, adorable weirdo._

Louis would sneakily crumple his designated sticky notes so he could have more free time for himself and screw Harry over. He would scrunch his lips in a teasing smirk while he acted like a little shit. Harry would discover Louis' mischievous act minutes later, squinting his eyes at the renewed calendar and looking both ways before sticking Louis' yellow tabs back up.

Harry still had to have some time for himself though, so he would light up a few scented candles and proceed to rid Isabella's toys from the bathtub and finally slip inside. Only, he would later find one of Isabella's toys prodding his bum. He would thrash around in the water and pull out Isabella's toy duck with a splash, rolling his eyes and throwing the squeaky toy over the edge of the tub.

Louis spent his mornings with Isabella watching football highlights, shouting out motivational cries for Manchester United while Isabella legitimately cried with a trail of tears cracking her rosy cheeks.

"What? You wanna watch something else?" Louis would say, switching the channel to the Doncaster Rovers playing.

Isabella would merely cry harder, Louis groaning out a protest in defeat and flicking the channel to The Wiggles. Louis would frown in indignation, looking down to see Isabella was starry-eyed and quiet, her mouth flopping open in awe. He would sigh and rub his hands on his face, propping up his legs on the coffee table and lacing his fingers at the back of his head.

Louis was always up for trying new things that revolved around babies. On his way home from Tesco one day, he picked up a baby sling carrier. He looked over the instructions and harnessed the sling across his chest. He scanned the directions one last time and hitched Isabella up into the carrier, letting her go and Isabella falling to the floor. He gasped and picked Isabella up quickly, cradling her head and looking for any signs of possible bruises.

"You okay? You okay?" Louis widened his eyes at her, Isabella giggling in response. "Good. Okay. I'm sorry."

Louis hugged Isabella to his chest protectively, sealing his lips shut and making a mental note to never mention the accident to Harry.

Isabella  _still_  wouldn't try Harry's cooking. Harry kept fighting with Isabella on the food he'd prepare for her, Isabella crying deafeningly and twisting her body away from the spoon. Tear tracks stained Isabella's cheeks, Harry letting out a frustrated shout and dropping the spoon with a resigned slump of his shoulders. Harry rubbed his throbbing temples and bowed his head, his clasped hands covering the painful expression dawning on his face.

There were many challenges that came with raising Isabella, but Louis and Harry weren't quitters. Despite everything, all the fights and the struggles and the laughs were worth it. It was good. It was a little bit messy and outright chaotic, but it worked.

Kind of like Louis and Harry.

Today, and like every other day, Louis and Harry were having Family Bathtime with Isabella. They set up a time in the afternoon, 7 o'clock sharp, to put aside their priorities and bathe Isabella in bubbles and play with her for a bit. Even though Harry was deprived of his Me Time, he was still happy to see the smile on Isabella's face.

Isabella was squealing giddily a few moments ago, but now she was strangely quiet.  _Too_   _quiet_. Isabella raised her eyebrows curiously, her mouth parting open in a 'o' shape. Harry suddenly registered it as her poop face, red warning signs going off inside his head.

"She's making the poop face," Harry announced anxiously.

"What do you mean she's making the poop face?" Louis frowned, his forearms hanging off the edge of the wet tub.

"Poop face!" Harry scrambled upright and picked Isabella up in his arms, his t-shirt getting soaked through for his skin to show. "Oh, God! She's gonna poop in the tub!"

Louis hurriedly moved as they both ran to the toilet, sliding on his knees and yanking on the latch while Harry held Isabella high in the air away from his face. Harry was already scarred for life with the first poop incident, he didn't need another memoir.

"Okay! Hurry! C'mon! Hurry up, hurry up! She's gonna poop on me!"

"I don't know how to do this!"

Louis yanked on the latch again, but to no avail. Harry was getting frustrated with every second he was holding Isabella.

"Tommo! Alright! You know what? Move, move! Let me do it! Here, just take her!" Harry pushed Isabella into Louis' arms and hunched over, his hands making a dive for the lever. "I got it. C'mon! Ugh! I hate this thing!"

"Okay! There's a latch! Pull the lever over—"

Harry panicked and gave up on popping the lid open, reaching over Louis' head and pulling off his favorite Vans cap instead. Louis stared at him wide-eyed as Harry flipped it upside down and held it underneath Isabella's naked bottom.

"Okay! Don't start. Sorry!"

"No, no, no, no! Not the hat!" Louis yelled helplessly. Harry's mouth dropped open as a tiny high-pitched sound emitted from beneath Isabella's bum. "Oh my God, that's my hat. That's my—I've had that hat since high school!"

"Oh, God."

Harry stumbled backwards, teetering on his heels until he landing on his arse. His face scrunched up, Harry stifling bubbly laughs until they produced into bigger belly-aching laughs.

"Yeah. Oh, it's funny? Laugh it off. Laugh it off." Louis couldn't help but find Harry giggling endearing, his red lips smiling and laughing right alongside Harry's goofy laughter. "Oh, okay, that's real funny."

"Oh, God. Um, I think we should just..."

Harry's hands fell limp and dropped the ruined cap into the trash can. He was still giggling, dusting off his hands and Louis laughing crinkly-eyed beside him. He dabbed underneath his right eye, his giggles slowly dying down once he got a closer look at Isabella. Where Isabella's belly button should be, she had a small noticeable lump instead. Harry frowned, leaning closer and poking her stomach.

"Hey, what is that?"

"What?"

"That lump. What's that?"

Louis followed Harry's line of vision, his eyebrows frowning instantly when he noticed what Harry meant.

"That's her belly button," Louis answered, his voice a little uneasy.

"No, it's not. That wasn't there—That was  _not_  there a few days ago."

"It's just an outie, innit?"

"No, it's  _not_ an outie," Harry sighed exasperatedly. He met Louis' stare and shook his head, driving all his energy into sounding neutral and mentally begging for his voice not to crack. He didn't need for Louis to start worrying like Harry already was. "I don't think?"

See, because Louis didn't worry about anything. That was easy to believe when all Louis seemed to care about was when his next shag was going to be and whether that person would be a male or a female. Harry thought it was one of the most irritant characteristics about Louis since it made him feel like a control freak whenever he was worried about something rational. Although on some convenient times, Harry found Louis' demeanor to stay calm in all situations a blessing in disguise. They were yin and yang and they balanced each other out more often than not.

Harry thought about this when he messed with the stroller an hour later, carrying Isabella with his arm and hip.

"How does—? What are those numbers on here? What does that mean? Why is this—?"

Harry struggled with folding the stroller closed, fussing with the pedals uselessly.

_What would Louis do if he were here? Louis wouldn't give a fuck, that's what he would do._

Harry rolled the stroller off to the side, muttering under his breath, "No one's gonna steal a stroller."

Harry's phone started to ring in his haversack. He huffed out an annoyed breath and rummaged through the contents until he fished out the vibrating device. He noted it was James that was calling him and unlocked his phone, pressing it to his ear.

"Talk to me, James."

After Harry signed in and gave his information to the woman at the reception desk, he went to the pediatrician's room number he was assigned to with his phone still pressed to his cheek. He ignored all the rude stares he received along the way and breathed out a sigh of relief when he saw room number 25.

"We can't afford to be snotty. It's our biggest event. Just bring out all the crowd pleasers. You know, anything wrapped in bacon and the mushroom vol-au-vent," Harry said into the receiver, pacing in circles and gently bouncing Isabella up and down on his hip.

_He_ _would_ _have you know, he_ _was_ _good at multitasking._

The door creaked open at that moment, a good-natured voice calling out, "Sorry to keep you waiting."

Harry didn't need to hear it twice in order to know who that gentle voice belonged to. It was that same voice he used to daydream about and the reason for that one time he spilled iced green tea infused with passion fruit on a flabbergasted customer.

Harry turned around quickly just to make sure he wasn't daydreaming. And if he had any second thoughts about who it was, he had his confirmation clear as day because Mr. Gorgeous himself was standing right in front of him.

"Hey, I gotta call you back," Harry said as he ended the call, his voice filled with awe.

Harry was suddenly hit with the reason why he gave Ed that nickname in the first place because he was wearing a white lab coat and he was real and hot and not just a figment of Harry's imagination. Ed even had a stethoscope hanging around his neck.  _Just beautiful._

"Harry."

Harry resisted the urge to call Ed, Mr. Gorgeous, and opted for, "Free-Range Turkey," instead  _and_ ,  _yeah, okay, that could have gone a lot better._

" _Dr_. Free-Range turkey," Ed replied with an easy smile.

 _God, he really_ was _gorgeous, wasn't he?_

"Yes, Ed, I remember."

It was gone too soon though. Ed's face fell and his expression morphed into a serious one.

"I heard about the accident. I am so sorry about your friends."

Harry wondered if apologies were so reoccurring to Ed as a doctor that it had become like second nature. He hoped not.

"Thank you," Harry breathed out shakily, walking around the examination table with Isabella still hitched between his arm and hip.

"Hey, you left me half a message," Ed said smoothly, changing the subject which made Harry secretly thank God. "Only it was the half without your number."

"Ah, yes." Harry smiled. He placed Isabella down on the table only for her bottom lip to begin quivering. "Something—Someone came up," he said through smiling, tight lips.

Harry had practiced that same fake smile in front of a mirror countless times before. He had told himself to be mentally prepared for all the sorrow-filled conversations he was so desperate to avoid. It hadn't been good enough, Harry inevitably getting close to tears when an old friend from university called him up one unexpected afternoon.

Ever since then, Harry had stood in front of the mirror and had ordered Louis to tell him, "I'm sorry about your friends," and, "I'm sorry about Zayn," over and over again until he had stopped crying and responded back with a well-practiced, "Thank you," or, "Thanks for your condolences," with convincing smiling lips. Louis had reached out and thumbed Harry's tear-dried cheeks, Harry pushing him away in reflex. Harry didn't need Louis to start treating him like a fragile porcelain doll like the others did.

"How we doing?" Ed asked cheerfully, Isabella continuing to sob.

"It's alright, sweetheart," Harry assured.

Harry watched Ed place the buds of the stethoscope into his ears and press the disk-shaped resonator to Isabella's chest.

"Is she, uh, is she sleeping okay? Regular bowel movements?" Ed asked, switching the resonator to Isabella's back in order to hear her steady breathing.

"Not a first, but now very regular, um. But she does have this protrusion on her stomach. I—I—I don't know, you know, what it is. I'm not sure what I'm supposed to be looking for. I don't know really anything about kids. Zayn...Zayn was the first of my friends to have a baby...and he was amazing with Isabella. And he would be the first person I would call about this, you know? I mean, he was the first person I would call about everything and..."

Harry's words rushed out in one quick breath, the fastest he had ever talked in years. He sucked in a sharp breath, a familiar lump knotting in his throat.

"God, it  _is_  killing me. It is  _killing_ me right now that I can't call my friend...he just..."

Harry's back pressed up against the wall, tears already welling up in his eyes without his permission.

"And I'd really like to say, "What the hell were you thinking?! You could have just left me your Ray-Ban Aviator sunglasses or your Alexander McQueen butterfly sweater!" I mean, this is a little too much. It's really,  _really,_  hard and I don't know what I'm doing. I don't know what I'm doing," Harry repeated numbly.

Harry blinked rapidly the second the words left his mouth. A choked breath lodged in his throat, his own words taking him by surprise and vibrating for long beats at a time in his ears. Harry just realized he had confessed like a sinner to a pope. That moment of vulnerability, that scared feeling he'd been keeping pent up like a locked chest, was all out in the open air. Exposed out to Ed, of all people, to hear and judge. However, Harry did not regret it even as alarmingly honest as he was. It felt like a heavy weight was lifted off his chest and it wasn't like he could take it back now.

Ed had long since stopped hearing Isabella's deep breaths. He was staring at Harry,  _fuck_ , he was  _still_  staring at him and all Harry could do was push himself off the wall and smile unconvincingly. Even Isabella was watching him from her view sprawled on the table, her gaze curious.

"I'm sorry," Harry mumbled, half-dizzy from everything he spilled out of his no-filter mouth.

"No, I think you've done pretty well considering. Isabella's got an umbilical hernia. It's nothing to worry about." Ed pulled Isabella into a sitting position, Isabella making a small noise that sounded a lot like a whine. "Most go away on their own, but we'll keep watching her."

"Then I didn't do it," Harry joked halfheartedly.

 _Geez, even_ he _knew that was a terrible joke_.

Ed didn't seem to mind though or didn't seem to think it was important to tease Harry about it like how Louis would.

"No, you did not do it," Ed chuckled, his feeble smile sending waves of heat towards Harry.

"Okay."

Ed pulled out a notepad and a red ink pen from his lab coat's pocket. He started to hastily scribble something on the lines, Harry's blood pressure picking up. Harry worried his bottom lip into his mouth and felt his stomach go queasy.

"I thought you said it goes away on its own?"

Harry could tell his own voice betrayed him, cracking in the middle. Ed didn't mention it and ripped off the yellow paper from the notepad, handing it over to Harry with raised eyebrows.

"That's for you."

Harry's eyes scanned through the two sentences. He felt all his nerves dissipate at the realization.

Harry laughed genuinely this time, his voice relaxed as he read aloud, "'One bottle of Pinot Noir. One to two glasses as needed.'"

"Or white. Same dosage though," Ed said with a hint of tease only to undermine his own tone of voice by vigorously saying, "Look, what you're doing is pretty incredible. Don't forget to give yourself a break every now and again. Okay?"

"Thank you."

"I'll have my nurse set you in about a week?"

"Okay," Harry agreed gratefully.

"Alright. Bye, Isabella. You're gonna be okay," Ed told Isabella in a sing-song voice. He squeezed her shoulders tenderly and looked up to see Harry, his mouth twitching not to smile flirtatiously. In lieu, he smiled close-lipped and professional. "Nice to see you."

"You too. Really," Harry whispered, feeling a little out of breath.

On the way home, Harry drummed his thumbs on the steering wheel, Isabella sound asleep in the backseat. Ed's note was tucked away in the front pocket of Harry's trousers, the words burning through the material. Harry blinked once, the headlights changing from red to green, his throat bobbing to swallow nervously.

Somehow, instead of following the route home and safely crashing into bed, Harry found himself switching on his flickering tail light and turning left. There was a bottle of Pinot Noir waiting for him at Tesco. And if it made Harry press on the gas pedal any faster, that was nobody else's business but his own.

Harry was going to drink away the harsh truth of his new life and he didn't think it made him a bad person for it. If anything, it was going to make him into a better, more improved version of Harry Styles. The wine would snap Harry awake and he would finally get a grip on the newfound reality he shared with Louis and Isabella.

Harry needed a goddamn break and nothing was going to stop him from splurging and properly treating himself for once. Just this once and never again.

_(He only hoped he wouldn't regret it in the morning.)_


	8. Drunk Off That Love, It Fucked My Head Up

* * *

Harry hiccuped. He leaned back in the kitchen chair before sitting upright, his third glass of red Pinot Noir tucked safely between his hands. He blew hot air out his lips, the wine sitting nicely in his stomach and the air suddenly feeling a lot heavier and warmer. He felt like taking off his clothes and being in the nude.

It wasn't long before the door opened and closed, Harry looking over his shoulder to watch Louis come inside with Isabella. Harry hiccuped again and flipped the page of the magazine with wet fingertips.

"So I was at the drug store...and it dawns on me that women stare at a bloke carrying a baby like a bloke will stare at a woman with great boobs."

Louis walked farther inside with Isabella draped over one arm and grocery bags draped over his free arm. Harry gave a humorless snort as Louis kicked off his shoes carelessly and placed Isabella down in the playpen along with the grocery bags. Isabella laughed happily and pulled out a tin can, tapping on the surface with a plastic spoon and making it her own makeshift drum. Louis smiled at her fondly, looking up to see Harry half-sitting and half-falling off the chair, his curls knocked askew and his cheeks colored a bright pink.

"You know what I just realized today? I am never gonna take a great bath in this house. This is a shower house." Harry watched Louis watching him, his tousled bangs brushed off his forehead. "You never brush your hair, do you? It must save so much time. That's so handy."

Louis stared at the Pinot Noir set at the table, his brows furrowing together. Harry swirled the wine in the glass before taking a large gulp, his throat bobbing with a swallow.

"How's that wine treating you?" Louis asked sarcastically, resting his hands on his hips.

"Mm-hmm," Harry hummed with his mouth pressed to the rim of the wine glass, offering Louis an eager thumbs up.

"Mm-hmm," Louis mocked and raised his eyebrows for a short beat, his mouth pressing in a thin line.

Harry whipped his head around to face Louis, musing, "Did you want some?" and holding up the bottle of wine for emphasis.

Louis stepped two steps back only to undermine his point and step forward again.

"No, no, no."

"Because I can share. I'm a good sharer," Harry said happily, his glassy green eyes glistening in the dim room. "No, you don't need any because you never worry. That's what Zayn told me, you know, when he set us up," he spoke solemnly, Louis rolling his eyes with suggestive eyebrows.

"He said, "Babe, you just got your arse dumped by your boyfriend of three years. You need to go have a good time." And then ta-da! You show up. Your charming self shows up...."

Louis' face spread into a small smile at the memory. Harry rolled his eyes and placed his hand on his chin, his long ringed fingers pressing to his blotchy cheek.

"And you don't even wanna go to the restaurant. My first date in three years and it's a total arsehole at the door! And now I'm raising a kid with that arsehole! God, the irony."

This was news to Louis, his smile slipping off his face all too quickly.  _God, Harry's words were slurred, but they cut deeper than a fucking knife._ It had Louis feeling like a massive twat. Could Harry have ever cared to mention that, maybe? Louis wasn't the type for grand romantic gestures like opening a car door for someone or hanging on to every word his boring date said just for the sake of getting laid, but he could have spun some shit up.  _For fuck's sake,_ he could have taken Harry out to eat and make him feel good about himself. Maybe even go as far as to compliment Harry's features or press a kiss to his cheek. Louis pushed the guilt to the back of his throat, swallowing around the vice-like tightness.

"Come on, off to bed." Louis tugged Harry up by the arm, Harry quickly taking a long sip of wine before letting himself get dragged away. "Up, up, up."

"You are, you know that, right? An arsehole?" Louis hummed, nodding meekly and still tugging Harry by the arm. "It feels so bloody good to say that to your face. Been saying it behind your back for  _years_."

Louis huffed and started wrapping Harry into his arms and pulling him up the stairs. "A belligerent drunk.  _Great_. That'll be a fun next 18 years," he muttered, his voice dripping with sarcasm as he pulled Harry along with quick paces.

"Everybody thinks I'm a fun drunk," Harry murmured with a pout. The doorbell chimed along to Harry's slow, syrupy words. Louis let go of Harry's arm, both men turning around at the sudden sound. "Someone's at the door. Who is it?" Harry swayed slightly on the stairs, Louis running to get the door. "It's probably a neighbor."

The door opened with a creak, Louis' surprised face meeting a stranger's.

"Yes?"

A pretty girl with straight brown hair stood on the doorstep, her lips curving into a polite smile. "Hi, I'm Eleanor Calder." Silence ensued. "Your caseworker from social services." Eleanor extended her hand for Louis to take.

"Yeah," Louis groaned inwardly, shaking Eleanor's hand limply.

"You were told we'd be making a few unannounced visits," Eleanor continued to say just as Louis felt a warm body press up behind his back.

Louis felt Harry's lips press into his hair, the long waves of Harry's curls tickling Louis' neck. He let himself fall into Harry's embrace before he remembered the current situation at hand and mentally slapped himself out of it. He swung his arm blindly behind himself and smacked Harry against the chest.

Harry puttered out a whiny, " _Ow_ ," behind Louis' back, Eleanor offering Louis a peculiar look.

Louis definitely didn't need a caseworker to see Harry in this bloody drunken state.  _Why out of all days did Harry choose_ today _to get drunk off his arse? God was laughing at Louis, if there was one._ To be fair, Louis didn't think there was any deity considering how they got into this mess in the first place. God and Louis were not the best of friends right now.

"Um, yeah. Well, this is definitely unannounced."

Eleanor flicked her hand up in the air, the smile on her face poised as if to say, 'That's the whole point.'

"Just give me one minute," Louis said with a tight-lipped smile, mentally cursing his entire existence.

"May I come in?" Eleanor piped up with a little curtsy only to have Louis close the door abruptly. "No?" she squeaked out just before the door slammed shut in her face.

"Who is that?"

"Social services," Louis uttered in a frightened, high-pitched tone. He kept the whine from escaping his mouth and pointed a stiff finger to Harry, commanding orders instead. "Alright, you've got five minutes to shower, sober up and start acting like the responsible pain in the arse that you've been since we moved in. Now go."

"Okay," Harry said breathlessly, staring wide-eyed at Louis and making no indication to move.

Harry's eyes were glassy and his lips were sticky and unfairly red from the grape wine. Louis wanted to hit or touch Harry, he couldn't decide which. He cupped Harry's face until his cheeks were squished and his raspberry painted lips were pushed out, almost like he was making a kissy face. He tightened his fingers until he knew they left red marks on Harry's already blotchy cheeks and,  _still_ , he didn't let go. Harry was motionless, staring at Louis with bright eyes and dimpled cheeks. When Louis finally did let go, he ignored the blush crawling up his own cheeks.

"Go, go, go."

Louis pushed Harry by the shoulders and shoved him in the direction of the stairs.

"Ah!" Harry groaned in protest, swaying his hips as he walked.

Harry twisted his body away in an ungraceful manner, his hips popping with every step he took. Fuck, maybe he was right. Maybe he  _was_  a fun drunk after all. Louis would have to test that theory out later. For now, he raised his eyes from Harry's arse only to find Harry was speed-walking to the end of the hall rather than up the stairs.

"Upstair—Upstairs." Louis' words left his mouth in a hurry, Louis pointing his finger frantically to show Harry where the stairs were located. His voice softened to say, "Your room is up here, remember?"

"I'm sorry," Harry giggled,  _actually fucking giggled_ , and continued to move his hips sinfully as he trotted up the steps.

"Go, go, go," Louis urged desperately, Harry clamping a hand over his mouth to tamp down his giggles.

Louis looked over his shoulder worriedly to see Eleanor's blurry silhouette through the tinted glass.

"I'm going," Harry mumbled, his words bubbly.

Harry tripped on his own two left feet and almost toppled over, sucking in a sharp breath in an accusing tone.  _It was about time the kid fell over from his long giraffe legs._

"Stop pushing me! Don't push."

"Just—I didn't..." Louis threw his hands up in the air in defeat, his expression borderline disbelief.

Louis looked over his shoulder again and saw that Eleanor was waiting on the other side of the closed door and probably counting down the minutes on her watch. They hadn't started the interview yet and they already had a bad first impression.  _Just their luck_. So Louis pulled out one of his best secretive moves that he only used in desperate times of need. He had a way of distracting people in order to get what he wanted. In this case, he needed to distract Eleanor so she wouldn't notice Harry's absence and to give Harry enough time to sober up and pull off this interview together.

Louis pulled open the front door and let the show begin.

Half an hour later, Louis asked Eleanor, "You sure you don't wanna see the garage again?" for the second time that night.

"Nope. Twice is my limit."

They walked into the living room, Louis gesticulating frantically with his hands as he spoke.

"I have a whole area of tools you didn't even get a chance to see."

"I'm good." Eleanor flicked her hand in a dismissive manner, looking at her watch and smiling tightly. "I'm usually wrapping up by now and..."

Harry trotted down the stairs, the front of his hair slicked back with tufts of wet curls tucked behind his ears. He still sported a fresh blush on his cheeks, his lips painted a cherry red from all the wine he consumed earlier.

"Hello, I'm so sorry. I had to get the little one down."

As if on cue, Louis and Eleanor looked behind themselves to see Isabella bouncing in her playpen, gurgling happily to herself.

"Oh, and you can see why. Take your eyes off her for one minute and zoom! You know? Just "tee-tee-tee-tee-tee" on her little legs," Harry giggled abruptly, motioning with his hands as he talked.

Louis rolled his eyes internally, praying that the rest of the night would go by quickly.

"Okay, well. Let's get started then."

With a notepad sprawled on her lap and a pen poised in her hand, Eleanor had all the mundane professionalism a caseworker should obtain. Still, Harry's outburst of spontaneity didn't stop Eleanor from raising her perfectly arched brows in question. Louis didn't blame Eleanor's suspicious interest.

"Okay, so let's just talk. You know, I just wanna get a sense of the both of you and your plans. Where do you see yourselves in five years?"

Harry raised up his hand eagerly as a one-year university student would.

"Ooh! Ooh! Ooh! Ask me. I know. Great answer."

Louis tapped Harry's wrist lightly. "You don't—"

Harry smiled cheekily and patted Louis' thigh in return, Louis licking his lips and biting the inside of his cheek hard enough to draw blood.

"No, I'm good, I'm good. I own a small gourmet-food store soon to be a small gourmet restaurant. We're expanding. New flooring, I'm thinking hexagonal tile," Harry chatted excitedly.

"New flooring. That's part of everyone's five-year plans. Flooring, right?" Louis said in a sarcastic tone.

"Anyway, I'm also hoping someday to have my own frozen-food line. Organic. But that's the 10-year plan. You asked about the five-year. Oh, God, I didn't include Isabella!"

"You didn't," Louis affirmed in a scold.

Louis wrung his hands tersely, wanting desperately to clamp Harry's mouth shut to stop his constant blabbering. Eleanor was caught off guard by the whole situation, not knowing if she should keep track of whatever spilled from Harry's mouth or keep a curious eye on Louis' fidgety movements. They were both off their parenting game, honestly.

"Let me just take it back. She is a big part of my plan."

"That's fine. Thank you," Eleanor interrupted, her smile too tight for Louis' liking.

"Okay," Harry sighed sadly, deflating a little.

"Louis."

Louis looked away worriedly from Harry's solemn face. He clapped his hands, his fake smile stretching tightly across his cheeks like a taut bowstring.

"Yup, Louis' good. Louis will be fine."

"Okay, Louis."

"Well, I'm the technical director of the London Lions broadcasts."

"Okay," Eleanor prompted Louis to go on. "So what does the technical director do?"

"Well, when the director says, "Ready, go Camera 1," I'm the lad that—I push the button that goes Camera 1." Louis lamely showed with his hand the motion of somebody pressing an imaginary button, Harry mouthing the words, "He pushes the button."

"And I guess in a couple years...when the boss gets kicked upstairs or gets pinched with a rent boy...I'll get my shot in the director's chair."

Louis laughed awkwardly then, Eleanor staring at him confusedly while Harry sat beside him motionless.

"Okay...so Andy tells me that you're both single...and presently not engaged in a relationship." A pregnant pause. "Not sleeping together?"

"God, no!"

"Okay, good."

"Oh my God, no!"

"No, no, no!"

"Not a chance!"

"Okay, that's great, because this situation...two single people living under the same roof....raising a recently orphaned child, well, it's complicated enough...without the added complication of, you know,  _that_."

"Oh, trust me, Eleanor, we will not be complicating anything with that. Yeah, I get plenty of that elsewhere," Louis said with a wicked grin and a flirtatious wink in Eleanor's direction.

Harry didn't miss how Eleanor slightly blushed from Louis' intense gaze and lifting, teasing eyebrows. He cleared his throat loudly.

"I get plenty of that in my day as well," Harry whispered petulantly.

" _Way_  back in the day," Louis said with a snort.

They bickered back and forth, Louis pinching Harry's thigh as a last minute resort to annoy him.

" _Listen,"_ Eleanor interrupted them with a raised hand. Louis and Harry quieted _. "_ You two both seem like two sweet doe-eyed people...about to have the worst year of your lives. I'll be honest with you. Wanna make jokes about rent boys? Go for it, I don't care."

Louis shuffled in his seat uneasily, scrunching his lips to the side.

"You have  _no_  idea the types of families that I deal with. Rent boys? They're my  _good_  cases. The only obstacle here is you two...and whether or not you're both cut out to be parents. What we want to avoid is Isabella losing more people that she's close to," Eleanor said with a long pause, the air around Louis and Harry suddenly feeling heavy with the anticipation of her next carefully chosen words. It felt like a  _big_ moment in a movie. But this wasn't a movie, it was their depressing and satirical life. "You know, your friends thought you could do this, but I'll be honest...I'm not so sure."

Eleanor's frank words stumped Louis and Harry into silence. The kind of silence that made them question the kind of parents they were. In all sincerity, they both had enough doubts if they were cut out to be the right guardians for Isabella. Sometimes the gnawing feeling biting at their skin would encourage Louis to get up from the couch and crawl into Harry's bed.

The first night had been strange. Harry had felt the bed dip beneath him and a warm body pressed close behind him. When Louis nuzzled his nose into the nape of Harry's neck and inhaled, one hand wrapping tentatively around Harry's waist and a whispered, "This okay?" Harry let him. The morning after wasn't stiff or awkward, it was simply Harry getting up early and bringing Louis breakfast in bed. If Louis continued to sneak into Harry's room and if Harry slept better with someone tucked behind himself, then that was that. No questions asked.

Soon after Eleanor left, the sound of Isabella's wails carried through the thin walls. As always, Harry rushed over to soothe Isabella in his arms while Louis trailed behind not knowing what to do. No matter which way Harry coaxed her, Isabella seemed to fuss louder and kick her feet against his chest meanly.

"How can I be hungover if I haven't even gone to sleep?" Harry bemoaned.

"All we have to do is put her down. Just, you just—" Louis ran a hand through his soft, messy hair. He was dressed in rumpled clothes, looking soft in grey sweatpants and disheveled hair. All energy from the unforeseen interview had him loose and pliant but mostly just tired. "Gotta put her—"

"She's not warm. She doesn't even have a fever, she's just overtired."

"What time s'it?"

"It's okay, Bella, c'mon, honey. I don't know, maybe you should start wearing a watch, Tommo."

"Look, there's somebody we gotta call, alright?"

Hopeless minutes passed by until Louis and Harry gave up and called Isabella's babysitter Mathew. They had no other options, really. The only possibility was calling The Baby Whisperer himself even if it was 10 o'clock at night.

They stood by the front entrance in anticipation, itching to open the door when the doorbell's chime would announce Mathew's arrival. As soon as it came, Harry flung open the door to reveal Mathew still dressed in his pajamas, his hair tossed to the left and framing his pillow creased face. Harry almost felt bad for calling Mathew over so late.  _Almost_.

"Hey. Thank you for coming over."

"It's okay."

"Um. Sorry about your dad." Louis cracked a poor attempt at a grin. "He's a pretty scary bloke, huh?"

Harry shuddered at the thought, remembering how Louis had lost their game of rock, paper, scissors and had to make the dreaded phone call.

Louis had pressed the phone to his ear, gnawing on his bottom lip anxiously when he was on the receiving end of Mathew's dad yelling,  _"This is unacceptable. Do you know how late it is?"_ Mathew's scary dad ultimately gave in because Louis had almost begged.

Harry had hidden his smirk in his hand, Louis giving him the bird while he softly muttered,  _"Yes, sir. I understand. I'm so sorry again. Thank you so much. It won't happen again."_

Isabella's bawling brought Harry back into reality. Harry sighed, cradling Isabella while she cried harder with tear tracks staining her cheeks. Isabella reached out her arms to Mathew, who took her in his arms and walked into the kitchen.

"Come here, Bella."

Harry clapped his hands excitedly, following Mathew into the warm kitchen to see him work his baby magic. What he didn't expect was Mathew turning the oven fan on and holding Isabella underneath it.

"I don't know why, but this fan always helps. Beats having to take her for a ride, huh?"

Mathew hugged Isabella tighter to his chest, a pleased smirk evident on his face.

"Yeah."

Louis stared at Mathew with his mouth hanging open, disbelief clearly shown in his features. Harry sighed in relief, glad that his baby girl was no longer puncturing his sensitive ear drums.

"Anyway. Big maths test tomorrow so..."

As they walked Mathew back to the front door, Harry patted Louis on the chest and signaled him the universal motion of spending money by rubbing his fingertips together.

"Where's the money?" Harry tacked on for good measure.

Louis shoved his hand into the pocket of his sweatpants to retrieve some crumpled bills and presented them to Mathew.

"Mathew. Mathew!"

"It's okay," Mathew hesitated. "I don't take it anymore."

Louis nodded, folding the bills when Harry slapped him on the shoulder, urging him to give it to Mathew anyways.

"Give him the money."

"C'mon, go ahead," Louis pressed, closing Mathew's hand over the wrinkled pounds. "I insist."

Harry offered Mathew a thumbs up. "Thank you so much. Good luck on your maths test."

"Okay. Good bye," Louis said with a soft smile.

They waved at Mathew one last time, closing the door after him and leaning against the doorframe in utter exhaustion.

"Thank God."

Peaceful silence filled the room until it was broken like sharp shards of broken glass from Isabella's cries ripping through the air.

"Oh, no."

"No...no, no, no, no."

Harry groaned while Louis was close to tears. Louis scrubbed one hand down his tired face and palmed his other hand on his thighs. He hauled himself upright and carried Isabella in one swift movement. He padded over to the kitchen and turned the oven fan on, Harry following closely behind like a lost puppy. He lifted Isabella up higher in the air underneath the oven fan, her wails louder than the whirring noise the fan was emitting.

"It's too close, Tommo! Put her down, you're gonna chop her head off!"

"That's what The Baby Whisperer was doing!"

"No, he wasn't! He was doing it down here," Harry yelled frantically, trying to mimic how Mathew had held Isabella and showing Louis to do the same.

Ten minutes later, they carried Isabella to the Honda. Louis chose to drive while Harry seated himself in the backseat with Isabella. Harry buckled a still crying Isabella in the car seat, Louis' grip on the steering wheel tightening as he reversed from the driveway and onto the road.

"We're gonna go for a drive."

"Just nice and slow, Bella," Louis announced.

"We're just gonna go for a ride around the block," Harry cooed.

"We'll be back in time for the game, huh?"

The sun was peeking over the orange horizon when everything finally settled like a warm fleece blanket. The Honda slowly pulled to a halt in the driveway, exhausted hands shifting the gear shift from drive to park. Louis looked in the rearview mirror to find Isabella drinking her bottled milk quietly, Harry snoring softly with his whole weight pressed against her car seat.

Louis snuffled a tired sigh and composed himself. He wanted to belt out his frustrations, but he knew that would only upset Isabella again. He swallowed down his blood-curling screams and forced himself to take a deep breath.

_It was only a hitch on the road, no need to be a whiny bitch about it. He was stronger than this._

Louis got out of the Honda and slammed the car door shut. He could care less whether he woke Harry up or not. Just to make sure, he rapped his knuckles on the glass loudly and walked away feeling a little more satisfied with himself. Inside, Harry woke up startled and adjusted his eyes to the bright light.

Harry looked around himself, watching a figure walking to the front entrance of the house and disappearing inside. He sighed and tugged on the ends of his curls tightly, glancing sideways to see Isabella slurping on her milk bottle contently. For some reason, Isabella reminded him distinctively of Louis. Smug smile, curious eyes, soft cheeks and even softer hands. The only difference was that Isabella had brown eyes while Louis had blue.  _Big beautiful blue as open as the ocean._

Harry shook his head, repressing the chill that left goosebumps crawling over his skin.  _Fuck. What was wrong with him?_ He suppressed the bitter feeling nipping at his skin and unclasped the seatbelt contraction off Isabella.

With calming breaths, Harry lifted Isabella out of the Honda and dragged his feet across the pavement, walking inside the house and closing the door behind himself. He heaved a deep sigh and walked upstairs, slipping into the bedroom that he occasionally shared with Louis; nights or mornings like these when they were too tired to set up blankets and pillows on the sofa downstairs and slept together on the same bed even when they obviously shared the same hatred for each other.

Harry placed a now sleeping Isabella inside her crib and folded a blanket over her, heading to the bed where Louis was sprawled on the rumpled duvet. He smiled softly and started to undress Louis from his shoes, his socks and his shirt. Too tired to brush his teeth, he climbed into bed and settled for awful breath in the morning.

Harry rubbed Louis' back the way Louis liked so much, his fingertips stroking over warm, soft skin. He pressed a feverish kiss to Louis' shoulder, his lips burning where they left a mark and his tongue darting out to lick at the shimmering golden skin.

Harry nuzzled his face into the deepest curve of Louis' neck. Louis turned to lie on his back and faced the other way. Harry breathed Louis in, Louis' skin smelling like stale cigarette smoke and expensive, faded cologne.  _God, he smelled so fucking good._

Without overthinking it too much, Harry nipped at Louis' skin, his sharp teeth indenting the exposed flesh. Louis tasted like salted caramel.  _Yummy_. Harry sucked on Louis' soft skin, Louis whispering a quiet moan. He continued to taste him, relishing in the moans that escaped Louis' mouth unwillingly. Harry pressed a hand to Louis' hip, steadying him where he felt himself go dizzy, dizzy, dizzy with lust. Louis moaned loudly then, promptly stopping Harry from sucking any further. He shifted on the bed until he faced Harry, his skin burning hotly.

"Don't stop," Louis murmured, staring intently at him from underneath lidded eyes, Harry feeling like he was burning up.

"If I continue, I'm not sure I'll be able to stop," Harry whispered in the dark, his eyes prickling with tears.

Harry thrusted his hips weakly against Louis' thighs, feeling himself hardening already.  _Fuck_. Fuck Louis and his tight body. With his smart mouth and strong legs and plump, perfect arse. Especially when it made Harry question his own goddamn confusing feelings.

More often than not, Harry would spill hot and white into his cupped hand, pretending Louis' name wasn't a constant staccato inside his lust-filled brain. Harry convinced himself it was only sexual frustration, that Louis was around all the time so it provided him a vision to have at the back of his eyelids, burning when he would close a fist around his leaking cock. He convinced himself it was only physical attraction, that it didn't burn further than that because he  _couldn't_. Because Louis was a player, all smooth pickup lines and nothing more.

If Harry didn't stop now, he'd inevitably get his heart broken.

Louis whined in protest when Harry stopped sucking a bruise to his neck. He smacked his hand on Harry's face and muffled a frustrated moan. Harry smiled sweetly at Louis, wrapping an arm around Louis' waist.  _This_ — _This was okay._ Harry could hug him and hold him if there was no prepice on whatever came next. He could hold onto platonic bro-pal-laddy-lad-mate friendship. He tightened his arms around Louis' lithe body as if Louis was going to disappear from his embrace and he was going to lose his boy forever.

 _No_ , Harry thought.  _Maybe it wouldn't be so bad if I get my heart broken by Louis._

Besides, they hated each other. In no world would Louis and Harry ever get together. The thought itself was simply ridiculous.

But as Harry felt his eyelids droopy with sleep and his arms curled tighter around Louis' frame, he briefly wondered when the hatred he once felt for this man was now being replaced by a sudden surge of overwhelming affection.


	9. Nothing Else Matters Now, You're Not Here

* * *

"Mm-hmm, absolutely." Louis nodded furiously, balancing a hot cup of tea in one hand while the other held the phone. "Yeah, I'm on my way now. Okay, thank you so much! Alright, good bye."

Louis hung up the call and fist pumped the air victoriously. He skidded across the hallway in socked feet, his energy radiating off him in waves. Harry rolled his eyes  _(a bad habit that Louis had no idea where he picked up from)_ and trotted down the stairs carrying a laundry basket filled with his, but mostly Louis', dirty laundry.

"Yes, Sandy's out!" Louis spoke animatedly, continuing to punch the air with both fists while Harry hummed disinterestedly.

Which was  _rude_. Louis was finally earning the break he deserved, the least Harry could do was reciprocate some of his excitement.

"I finally got the call to direct the next game. Can you believe that?"

Harry shook his head, shrugging one shoulder and brushing Louis off in the corridor.

"Today is my Riverside event, I told you this."

Louis stopped in his tracks, all energy deflating out of him like a popped balloon.

"You never told me that."

"Yes, I did, you just don't listen to men who don't sleep with you. See it right there on the board." Harry pointed at the chart with the orange and yellow sticky notes. He placed the laundry basket on top of the kitchen stool and hitched his haversack higher on his shoulder. "We have it at 7:30 tonight."

"Harry, c'mon! I can't. There are no kids in the booth. C'mon, work with me here," Louis whined petulantly.

"Tommo, it's on the board," Harry berated tiredly.

"Do you have any idea how big of a game this is? The London Lions are a game out of the eighth seed and the East, if they win, they're in the play—Don't you walk out that door!" Louis yelled as a final attempt to stop Harry.

"Tommo, you're speaking Mandarin. I've been planning this event for three months."

Harry opened the door as the disappointing words hurled out of his mouth. He opened his mouth to say something else, but he stopped short, his eyes lingering on a spot on Louis' neck. Louis self-consciously rubbed his neck, feeling his cheeks warm up from Harry's heated gaze.

When Louis had woken up in the morning, he stumbled into the bathroom and frowned at himself in the mirror, specifically at blotch of purple and red marking his sensitive skin. It looked a lot like a hickey. Once Louis had questioned Harry if he had any idea how he got the mark, Harry merely shrugged. Louis hadn't remembered the night before.

"S'just a bruise," Harry had replied.

Harry's eyes flitted down to Louis' 'bruise' and back up to Louis' eyes, his bottom lip tucking underneath his teeth and popping out with saliva. For an undefinable reason, Louis wanted to run his thumb along the soft cushion of Harry's bottom lip. Harry snapped himself out of his Louis-induced trance and resumed from where he left off.

"There are plenty of mommies and daddies on the block who are  _totally_  in love with you. Call  _them_."

On that final note, Harry shut the door, effectively shutting up Louis' protests too.

In a moment of sheer panic, Louis lost his warm socks as he paced up and down the hallway in cold, bare feet. Louis hitched Isabella higher on his hip, the phone pressed hotly to his cheek.

"Hey, Jade! It's Tommo from, yeah...hey, I was wondering if maybe you guys could watch Bella for a little bit today. I got kind of a huge break. I get to direct the London Lions game today..."

After two other failed calls, Louis pinched the bridge of his nose while Isabella stared at him from his hip, confused as to why Louis was frustrated. Louis took a sip from his tea and grimaced. It had ran cold.

"Nope, Mathew can't, he's got a big maths test. Yeah, I tried Jed and Jade too, they're all busy. Huh? Oh, okay. That's okay. Good bye."

Louis called neighbor after neighbor, failing miserably to gain a last-minute babysitter. Little pinpricks of pain tugged at his skin from his pinching fingernails.

_Fuck, is this what rejection felt like?_

Louis didn't like it one bit.

*

"It's a healthier meal, you know, than fried shells."

"Yeah, yeah."

"I like my tacos baked."

"Yeah, I like them soft."

"Yeah."

The yellow cab parked into place, Louis unclasping his seatbelt and looking at the back of Niall's blonde head. Louis blew hot air out of his wind-chapped lips, clasping his hands together for a beat.

"Alright, thank you for the ride, Nialler," Louis said kindly, glancing down to see Isabella dozing off in her car seat.

"Well, you called, I came. That's how this Irish lad makes them money, baby. Now, what's up with my floor seats, you wanker?"

"I'm gonna make you a deal. Just because I like you so much, I'm gonna give you two floor seats." Louis leaned forward with a bill wedged between his fore finger and middle finger, Niall clapping his hands enthusiastically. Niall accepted the money gratefully and started counting the notes. "All you got to do is keep that meter running for me, alright?"

"Oh, okay!"

"My man."

"We're making another stop, then?"

"Um, yup. Just not yet."

Louis clapped Niall's shoulder and grabbed his work bag before opening the cab door and rushing outside to freedom. He was  _not_  a horrible dad without morals. He was simply paying Niall a little extra for keeping watch on his child without his knowledge.  _Semantics_.

"Alright." Niall glanced in the rearview mirror and noticed Isabella was snuggled in her car seat, Louis jogging farther away. "You left the baby!" He stumbled out of the cab and ran to catch up with Louis, his breaths labored. "You left the baby, you left the baby, you left the baby, you left the baby."

Niall bent down and gripped his bad knee, the other hand clutching his chest while he exhaled shaky breaths.

"You left the baby, you left the baby," Niall continued, his breaths rattled.

Louis sighed, walking towards Niall with his best puppy eyes on display and a pout in place. He had a knack for getting out of trouble using his baby blues. It had also guaranteed him many drunken nights of wild sex, but that was for another story.

"Niall, please, I got no choice." Louis blinked innocently at his cabbie and long-time friend. He pressed his palms together in a plea. "I need your help. As a friend."

"What? You can't leave me with your baby! Are you on craic? I could be the baby cabbie killer," Niall said with a frown, flapping his arms in the air in disbelief.

"I know all about you, mate. I know that you keep a clean cab, I know that you drive the speed limit and I know that you got three kids that you love to death."

"You know why? 'Cause they're my kids," Niall replied sarcastically. "I hate other people's kids. That's your baby in there!" he shouted in annoyance.

"Whatever the meter says, you can triple it, okay? You'll be the best paid babysitter in the state." Louis shook his clasped hands, his voice edging towards a desperate beg. " _Please_."

When Niall didn't retort any further, Louis shot him a wide grin and started walking away.

"What if she wakes up?"

Niall looked helplessly from Louis' retreating form and back to his cab, his frown growing by the second.

"She's not gonna wake up, I pro—" Louis walked a few paces back and threw Niall a yellow duck, walking backwards again with a grateful smile plastered on his face. "It's her duckie in case of an emergency."

"There better not be any emergencies."

"There won't be."

"Better not!"

Inside the booth, Louis walked across the polished floors like a powerful dictator, his chin held up high and a headset placed over his head like his own personal crown. He was Thomas Sankara but without the authoritarian regime. Ben had finally given Louis a shot at the director's chair and he was going to do whatever it took to impress him. It was Louis' time to shine.

"Ready camera three? And go three. Okay, Josh, give me those scoring leaders, please."

Josh looked up at Louis in awe. "No one has ever told me please before."

Louis cracked a smile, patting Josh on the back fondly. His phone rang in his trousers pocket, his  _Anaconda_  ringtone buzzing in the air. He hadn't changed his beloved ringtone even though Harry still gave him so much shit for it.  _Something about a terrible first date? Who knew?_

"Who's calling?"

"Um, it's the new sitter."

Louis didn't need to see the caller ID when he picked up the call and immediately recognized Isabella's ear-piercing shrills. He still had nightmares about her crying.

"The baby woke up. The baby woke up," Niall shouted over the phone, close to tears himself.

"Tomlinson, this is a great game going on. You should check it out," Josh commented.

"Cameras four and six be ready by the ball, two by the basket." Louis placed a hand over the phone, shouting aloud directions before going back to a distressed-sounding Niall. "Uh, okay. Um, sniff her butt, see if she needs to be changed," he reasoned, his temples throbbing with the beginning of a headache.

"I'm not sniffing this baby's booty! It's like a dirty bomb. It's like canned peanut butter."

"I'll be down in half-time."

Niall shouted his protests over the phone before the line went dead.

Louis yelled a few orders around before slipping out of the booth, making sure nobody witnessed his smooth escape. He wasn't even supposed to leave during the span of the game. He opted for the stairs rather than the elevator and ran all the way down, flinging the escape door open and watching Niall place Isabella on the trunk of his cab. He rushed over in a few strides and glanced at Niall, who was busy pinning him with a menacing grit.

"Okay, here we go. Okay. Oh my God!"

Louis pinched the bridge of his nose before mustering the courage to brave the horrid smell. He threw Isabella's sodden diaper in the trash can and quickly changed her, sprinkling baby powder on her bottom. He tugged her shorts back on and held her up for Niall to take.

"Alright, Niall, we're halfway there."

"No."

"Please, listen, Niall," Louis beseeched despairingly.

"No."

"Okay, you know what? Here." Louis rummaged the inside of his trousers pocket to dispend his wallet. "Take the whole wallet, just have the wallet."

"I don't want your wallet," Niall spoke solemnly. "You know what I want? I want a nice comfy seat inside next to some big screen tellies."

"There are no kids in the booth. I'm sorry, you gotta sit out here with the kid, please," Louis urged impatiently.

Louis didn't have time for this. He had to get back inside the booth before halftime was up or else his boss was going to rip him a new one.

"Baby want to see a game?" Niall cooed in a baby voice.

"Baby doesn't want to see the game," Louis replied in a flat tone.

"Baby want to see the game?"

"Baby doesn't want to see the game."

"Baby wants to see game!"

Niall clapped his hands excitedly, Isabella gurgling and clapping her hands as well.

Louis inwardly groaned, mouthing, _"Really?"_

Niall nodded in faux-seriousness. Louis then did groan loudly and rolled his eyes, giving in and waving two fingers for Niall to follow him. He really hoped Ben wouldn't come to check up on him later. His boss would have his head if he saw that Louis brought in a stranger and a baby.

They opened the door to the booth, everybody's eyes on them as soon as they set foot inside.

"Hey, everybody this is Bella and, um, her nanny Niall."

"Say hi."

Niall lifted Isabella's hand in a wave and hitched the haversack over his shoulder with utmost confidence.

"Alright, here we go." Louis patted the leather sofa cushions and removed the fluffy pillows. He wasn't going to risk Niall smearing cheese grease on the expensive leather  _thank you very much._ "Cushy chair, monitors, drinks are in the fridge. No beers until after the game."

"Sweet."

"So you're good?"

Niall plopped down on the sofa and dropped Isabella next to him along with the haversack, Isabella falling backwards and slumping into the cushiony corner.

"Good."

Louis sighed in sweet relief and walked to the front of the booth, clasping his hands in a professional manner despite that his new  _(unprofessional)_  nanny and baby were sitting in one corner of the room.

"Alright, people, second-half, let's do this!"

Louis placed his headset back on and crouched over to where Josh was seated, Josh's quick fingertips tapping away on the bright buttons.

"Did you get a new service?"

Louis nodded. "Um, yup."

"He's your cab driver, isn't he?"

Louis nodded again. "Yup."

A few moments later, they were caught up in the last minutes of the game. It was an intense one, the score still set at 0-0. It was anybody's game.

Usually, the booth was filled with energetic yells, cheers, whoops and the aftermath of a promise to celebrate their win or loss at their designated pub downtown, but there were none of that today. Instead, the booth was filled with wailed screams and the panicked glances exchanged between coworkers behind Louis' back.

"Alright, camera four stay with Johnson," Louis commanded and pointed frantically at the screen. When the camera stayed in position, he whirled around to find Leigh-Anne and lifted his hands in the air in exasperation. "Sweetheart, tell camera four to stay with Johnson."

Leigh-Anne ripped off her headset, her distressed voice momentarily carrying over the sound of Isabella's piercing shrieks.

"I can bearly hear you, Tommo!"

"Do me a favor."

Leigh-Anne rolled her mascara-swept eyes at Louis and grumbled under her breath.

"C'mon, man!" Niall groaned at the several screens.

Niall shoved more greasy crisps into his mouth, ignoring the baby that was drowning in her own tears next to him on the sofa.

"Alright, get ready camera six." Louis took off his headset and covered his ears with his cupped hands. He walked over to Niall and waved his hand in front of Niall's face, all signs of playful banter gone. He was on the brink of losing his sanity. "Niall, she's crying,  _please_."

"Yeah, I know." Niall peered around Louis' body so that he could watch the screen, Louis blocking his view. "I'm trying to watch the game."

"You are the worst babysitter of all time," Louis muttered angrily.

"'Cause I'm not a babysitter. I'm a cabbie."

"Just do something, please! I'm dying over here!"

Louis turned around just in time to see Niall rolling his eyes at him.

 _What was up with people doing that to Louis nowadays? Please, only_ he _was allowed do that. He practically invented it._

Louis placed his headset back on his head and pointed at the several screens.

"Okay, camera two, alright, stay with the shooter. Camera two, um, no, I mean camera one." Louis pinched the bridge of his nose, squeezing his eyes tight. His vision was starting to become blurry, his instincts turning into unsure insecurity. "Camera two stay with—No, camera  _one_  stay with the shooter."

The basketball player jumped and, with a fluid flick of his hand, shot the ball into the basket. It went in. Louis' confusing directions caused the camera to only catch the players' feet, the last clip of the game ending in somebody's Nikes skidding across the floor.

Louis sunk to the floor on his knees, his mouth going bone-dry.  _Great_. He fucking missed the biggest game of the year. Ben might as well fire him now since he dropped the bomb on this one.

Louis' shoulders sagged. He hung his head low in shame while his coworkers burned daggers and blame into his backside. He felt like curling into a feces position and crying, the commentator's voice mocking him from the screens above.

"And the London Lions win! Unbelievable play! Lions win by one. Hands down, the best game of the year. Too bad you all couldn't see it."

_*_

Harry shifted the gear shift into park, the car humming until it became silent. He pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes, rubbing until sparks of red and black was all he could see. He opened his eyes and looked up at the house. Everything seemed strangely quiet. Complete opposite to the Riverside event.

It was an utter mess. They had ran the event an hour late and his guest of honor, locally known organic food chef, Jamie Oliver, was wholly unimpressed. The event was to gather aspiring local chefs in unison and blow Jamie's mind away, Harry hoping they could collaborate together and expand his bakery shop. But that didn't seem to be the case after tonight's disastrous events.

Harry's eyes focused on the only turned on light of the house spilling from Isabella's bedroom. With the last of his strength, he drew out a long breath, picked himself back up and walked inside.

Harry walked up the stairs to find Isabella's bedroom door ajar, soft hums traveling to the outside. He opened the door wider and saw Louis sitting in the rocking chair with Isabella gathered in his arms. Louis was rocking Isabella to sleep, singing a familiar song that pulled a knot from Harry's throat.

Harry stepped into the doorway and watched them silently. Louis didn't notice Harry's presence and continued to sing softly. Isabella was about to nod off, judging by her fluttering eyelashes and airy breaths.

_"But I'm a creep. I'm a weirdo. What the hell—"_

"What are you singing to her?" Harry interrupted rudely.

Louis startled, his grip on Isabella tightening subconsciously. Isabella fussed in his arms, close to waking up.

"Everybody likes Radiohead. Do you mind?" Cold blue eyes pinned Harry in place. Harry shrugged carelessly. Louis looked down at Isabella cradled in his arms, his voice dropping down to a sweet melody like the soft chime of morning bells.  _"What the hell am I doing here? I don't belong here."_

Isabella shifted in her sleep, her breaths evening out. Louis narrowed his eyes at Harry, no crinkles by his eyes when he smiled like the sun was in his face or when he laughed so hard he snorted and turned a very embarrassed shade of red.

"See? Told ya it works."

Louis got up slowly so as to not wake Isabella up or disturb her. He ran the tips of his fingers lightly along Isabella's cheek. Isabella snuffled quietly.

Harry frowned, the sight of Louis being so soft with Isabella doing nothing to mellow out his hard features or the angry beating of his heart. He was a sucker for a man that was good with children, but when he looked at Louis with Isabella, he only felt a pang of hostility uncomfortably unfurling in his stomach. He couldn't help it. As of late, Louis complained even more than usual and it was evident that he wasn't happy. As Louis' happiness was infectious, so was his misery.

" _God_ , would it kill you to—"

"Shh!" Louis put a finger to his lips, his eyebrows twitching into a frown.

"You shh!" Lower, Harry yelled, "Would it kill you to brighten the mood around here?"

Louis and Harry continued their conversation whisper-yelling the entire time.

"Yeah, it might."

"Oh, c'mon!"

"Why should I pretend to be happy when I'm not?" Louis shrugged in a self-deprecating manner. "I'm miserable. Let me be miserable."

"It's  _depressing,"_ Harry retorted.

"I don't care," Louis answered angrily.

"You know what? I'm really tired of all your dark little comments. You think your cynicism is some kind of "brutal truth" but it's just an emotional cop-out," Harry said through gritted teeth a bit too loudly.

Suddenly, the baby stirred. Both Louis and Harry froze until Isabella settled down again. Louis moved toward the crib quietly to check on Isabella and make sure she was still sleeping soundly. He shot an icy stare in Harry's direction and crossed his arms against his chest.

"Don't get angry at me," Harry said with a frown.

"What?" Louis whispered louder.

"What are you so angry about?!" Harry asked infuriately.

" _Everything!_ How can you not be? I'm angry at her arsehole grandfather. I'm angry at our lawyer and that judge. I'm angry at her for crying so goddamn much and I'm angry at myself for feeling that way. And I'm angry at Liam and Zayn for dying," Louis puffed in a hard exhale.

Louis' whole face was flustered red, his eyebrows pinching together in a frustrating way that made Harry want to press his thumb on the stress wrinkles formed there and soothe them out.  _Fuck him._  He didn't deserve any of Harry's touches anyway.

Louis looked back to Isabella and turned her on her back so she could sleep better. The fact that he remembered she slept more comfortably on her back instead of her stomach set something afire inside Harry. Anger. Guilt. Annoyance. Fond. Louis had a way that made Harry feel all of these mixed emotions and more. Louis turned to Harry and got right up in his face.

"And most of all, I'm angry I ruined my life for her!"

"Oh, I'm so sorry, Tommo, that parenting isn't as fun as you thought it was gonna be," Harry sneered childishly at Louis.

"Yeah, you're only happy to get rid of your old life 'cause your old life sucked!"

"My old life didn't suck," Harry defended in an offended gasp.

"Um, yeah it did," Louis said in a sarcastic tone.

Louis shoved past Harry and walked into the hallway, Harry hot on his heels. Harry clicked the door shut behind them and crossed his arms against his chest. Louis' face was set in a scowl, his nostrils flaring with hot breaths escaping his mouth. Harry clenched his jaw and pushed his tongue on the inside of his lower lip. They were standing so close that the pointy tips of their shoes were touching, close enough that Harry could practically feel Louis' hot breaths tickling his cheek.

"My old life was great. I was my own boss. I made my own hours. I had free time."

"You have no idea what a great life is, Harry. I  _had_  a great life. I went to games for a living, okay? Girls would buy  _me_  drinks and throw themselves at me. See this shirt?" Louis pinched the center of his black summer t-shirt and released it. "I slept with the girl who sold me this shirt."

"Ugh." Harry wrinkled his nose. "You're disgusting."

"You know how people say you can't have it all? Well, I had it all and it was awesome!"

Louis whipped around and started walking away from Harry, muttering quiet obscenities under his breath. Before he reached the top of the stairs, however, Harry pulled Louis' arm back and turned him fully around. Harry stepped up to Louis and jabbed his pointed finger against Louis' chest right on the  **LOVE WILL TEAR US APART**  words. He wasn't afraid of him no matter how intimidating his calculating, cold eyes were.

"Of course you think that's awesome because all you care about is getting laid. Even Liam was embarrassed by you, but he just never said anything to your face 'cause he was twice the man you are!"

As soon as the words were out into the open air, Harry immediately regretted them. Harry didn't mean any of it.  _Of course_  Liam was never ashamed of Louis. Liam thought it was great that Louis had a carefree life and got to sleep with whoever he wanted as long as he used protection. Harry only said that because he wanted to hurt Louis as much as Louis had hurt him. His Reckless and Cornered Animal Phase was coming out without his permission with sharp fingernails out, ready to go in for the kill.

A flicker of pain flashed across Louis' eyes, Louis opening and closing his mouth a few times and coming up empty. Louis shook his head angrily instead. Harry exhaled a shaky breath, the warmth of Louis' skin seeping into Harry's clothes. He reached out but retracted his hand just as quickly, afraid that Louis was going to reprimand him or smack him hard enough to leave a mark, to bruise, to teach him a lesson.

 _Louis was supposed to have won this battle,_ Harry bitterly thought to himself. _Since when did I become the quick-witted one?_

Louis' voice dropped low enough that it became eerie, sending a chill to run up Harry's spine with his quiet, haunting words.

"You know what? You should probably get laid yourself, except to have sex you have to find somebody who can stand you first."

 _He's still there,_ Harry thought for no more than a second.  _Hidden underneath layers and layers of misplaced trust and brokenness._

If there was any kind of pent up sexual frustration between them, then this would be the moment Harry would shove Louis against the wall and stick his hand down the front of Louis' sweatpants. Louis would hiss and shout, sinking his sharp teeth into the juncture between Harry's neck and shoulder. Harry would make Louis come undone like that, switching his hands to the back of Louis' sweatpants and gripping his big arse in both hands. He would ground his hips in filthy circles, Louis moaning and whining until he would buck his hips in a desperate search for friction.

They would have quick, dirty, angry sex on the wall with Isabella still sleeping in her bedroom while they would muffle their moans with cupped hands. But then Harry would realize he didn't want it to be quick and dirty even as how hot that sounded. He wanted to make it last so he would drag Louis to their bed and wreck him apart piece by piece until he had him on his knees and become the submissive kitty Harry always knew Louis was capable of. He would make Louis come until it hurt and had nothing left to give.

But as it was, there was no sexual frustration and no attraction at all. Everything that seemed endearing about Louis to others was irritating in Harry's eyes. Just how Harry's face, which was always so expressive and even worse when they fought, infuriated Louis at best. It was a miracle they didn't try to kill each other in their sleep.

Harry swallowed tightly, inhaling a quick intake of breath and grinding out, "Fuck you."

"No..." Louis flipped Harry off with both fingers as he mouthed, "Fuck you!" and stomped down the stairs.

Like always, Harry followed Louis. It seemed like he was always running, running, running after Louis. It didn't matter, he could never catch up or Louis wouldn't let him.

Harry reached the bottom of the stairs in time to see Louis throw on his jumper and pick up his motorcycle helmet from off the floor. Harry hated that thing.

"You know, you shouldn't be riding a motorcycle. Our kid's parents died in a car—"

"She is not my kid!" Louis shouted. His fists were clenched tightly by his sides, his mouth set in a firm and thin line. "She is  _not_  my kid."

Harry's heart broke. He stared disappointedly at Louis, his mouth slightly jarred.

"Then whose kid is she?"

Louis felt limp, the anger seeping out of him like a plant without water. He steadied himself on his wobbly feet and released shaky breaths. Harry always made him feel like he couldn't breathe. Louis couldn't stand the let-down look on Harry's face so he decided he wouldn't. His hands trembled to open the front door and shut it closed behind himself with an echoey slam. He shoved on the helmet over his head and started jogging towards his motorcycle. At least his joyride didn't make him  _feel_  things.

The motorcycle roared to life, Louis kicking off the kickstand and riding into the cool, windless night. He drove across town until he reached Point Hill where teenage couples would sneak off in the night and have sex in their cars. It was the right place for it. Point Hill had a beautiful view overlooking the city, the tall hill surrounded by bushes and pine trees. It was discreet and the kind of place Louis would hide off to whenever Isabella's cries became too tormenting. Or when Harry was too much of a control freak for Louis to handle.  _God, Harry always had to be right, didn't he?_

There was never a moment's peace in the house and it was slowly driving Louis insane. Louis often daydreamed of packing up his bags and flying home to run away from his problems, but then he remembered he had done exactly that back in Doncaster. He had packed up his bags without a single word and flew to the States to begin a new life.

Louis shut off the engine and pulled off his motorcycle helmet. He breathed in the crisp air, staring out at the city lights. No matter how insufferable Harry was or how badly Louis needed time away from everything, he knew he couldn't just leave them. He would spend the rest of his life regretting his decision if he did.

Louis rubbed his hands over his crimson face and covered his mouth, breathing harshly out of his nose. His eyes prickled with tears, his vision going blurry at the edges.

Fuck, Louis missed Liam and Zayn so much. He missed Liam's nonsensical texts and Zayn's mellow conversations. He missed playing football with Liam and he missed smoking a bowl with Zayn. He missed playing pool with them and sharing a laugh or two and going to the pubs to get wasted even when they had to drag him back to their house and force him to drink water before bed. He missed them listening to him talk about his problems, but most of all, he just missed  _them_.

Louis roughly rubbed his eyes until they were red-rimmed and the thin skin underneath his sad blue eyes became weary. He pulled his helmet back on and straddled the bike once again. He took a calming, steady breath and kicked off the kickstand.

Louis was going home.


	10. I'm Only A Fool For You And Maybe You're Too Good For Me

* * *

Louis watched colorful shades of light flicker across the curves and slopes on Harry's face. Harry was washed in light from the television, shadows swallowing the good side of his face. He was the light, always the sun, always brilliant, always capturing people's attention. Some might even say Harry was undeniably beautiful.

At this point, Harry was well aware of Louis' presence. Harry knew because he always seemed to know whenever Louis was near just like Louis knew too. It was an instinct. Harry flicked the television off, sighing and setting the remote control down.

"I'm sorry, Tommo. I didn't mean it."

"S'alright."

Louis hung his head low and made his way to sit down next to Harry on the sofa. Everything was silent. Louis palmed his sweaty hands on the tops of his thighs, leaning back on the sofa.

"You know, I broke my back when I was seventeen. I was almost paralyzed," Louis spoke softly. Harry looked at Louis, his whole attention drawn to him. "And Liam spent that whole summer with me in my room watching movies every day. All my friends went out to the beach or went out to chase girls, but he just sat there with me the whole time."

Louis exhaled a long breath he didn't know he was holding in. Here in the dark, it felt like he could be himself and share his confessions. He didn't have to be a lad or try to make everybody laugh. He could be truly one hundred and ten percent himself. Harry always made Louis feel comfortable.

"I can't leave her alone when she needs me even when they're gone."

Harry offered Louis a small smile, something about the way his lips curved made Louis want to memorize every line and every dip.

"I dug up some of their old home movies 'cause, you know, I just wanted to hear their voices. See them a minute, you know? And, um, I've found this one. It's a gem. You gotta see this."

Harry raised the remote control and flicked the television back on, unpausing the video on the screen.

A grainy, blurry picture of Liam and Zayn came into view. It made Louis' chest constrict at the sight of his friends, almost real but still untouchable. He needed to stop imagining that Liam and Zayn would come back into his life. It was impossible; they were dead.

Once the video started playing, the picture focused and became clear. Zayn walked into the freshly painted room, carrying Isabella in his arms while Liam babbled excitedly.

"Ta-da! Pretty great, huh? I went with the lavender and then the blue sky like we talked about."

"When did you paint this room?"

"I did it when you were at the adoption agency. I wanted to surprise you."

Zayn's eyebrows pinched, his entire features turning sour.

"You were supposed to do it three days ago. It smells like paint fumes in here."

Louis smirked. He was unfamiliar at seeing this side of Liam's and Zayn's marriage. They were utterly perfect together and it was almost frustrating how good they were for each other. Liam became stronger for both of them and even though Zayn had a façade of being dark and mysterious, he became soft marshmallow fluff whenever Liam was around. Liam was Zayn's knight in shining armor and all Zayn would paint for months was kind, hazel eyes.

Louis had never seen Liam and Zayn fight in the flesh and it surprised him to see them argue like normal human beings. He crossed his arms against his chest and leaned back on the sofa, Harry mirroring his movements. They simultaneously smiled at each other, both suppressing bigger smiles as they continued to watch the home video.

"It's been drying for twelve hours."

"It has not been drying long enough if I can smell—"

"Really? Why are you being so critical right now?"

"She can't sleep in the bedroom tonight."

"It's not even wet. I wouldn't bring a baby into a wet room."

"Of course it's not wet, but you think this won't smell for days afterwards?"

"It won't, it's totally aired out. Do you know how much work I put into this?"

"You didn't do any of this." Zayn flicked his hand in the air dramatically, his voice drawn tight. "When have you painted a  _cloud_  in your life?"

"I oversaw the work that was being done."

"You  _oversaw_  the work?"

"Yeah, I planned it."

"The one thing you said you would do, you  _oversaw?"_

"I got creative with it." Liam flapped his arms in the air almost comically, bellowing his frustrations. "The bloke came in and looked at all of it and I said, "Let's do the clouds!""

"This is ridiculous. She can't sleep in here."

"Of course she can! Move the crib. This is her room. Where else is she—"

Harry shut off the television once more. He was pursuing his lips downwards in that endearing way of his when he tried hard not to laugh. Louis crossed his leg over his lap, his eyes squinting into half-slits.

Louis' voice was amused when it came out to say, "So what you're saying is that it's okay that we're horrible parents...and we want to kill each other half the time."

"Two thirds actually." Harry smiled, the room suddenly feeling a whole lot brighter. He closed his mouth, a solemn expression shadowing his eyes and lips. "I think we just have to stop trying to fit ourselves into their lives."

"I hate this place."

Louis shook his head, his eyes surveying the house as if it was the first time he was actually seeing it. To be fair, it was, considering he never took the time to really take in the atmosphere since every time he tried to do so, all he could hear were Liam's and Zayn's echoing laughs.

"It's like a mausoleum in here. There's pictures of them everywhere." Louis pointed to a cowboy painting hanging up on the wall. "I really hate that cowboy painting."

The cowboy's creepy smile stretched from ear to ear as if he was the Joker himself. His crooked smile sent shivers down Louis' spine.

"It really is creepy, right?"

"Yeah, I want it out."

"If we're gonna live here, we have to stop tiptoeing around like they're coming back soon. They're not coming back."

Harry's mouth tilted downwards in a sad pout.  _That wouldn't do_. Louis looped one arm around Harry's shoulder and pulled him back until Harry was flush against Louis' chest, every part of their bodies touching. Harry rested the back of his head on Louis' shoulder, a small smile slipping onto his lips.  _Much better._

The next morning, they set out to redecorate the entire house. They started with the pictures framed on the wall,  _they were so many of them_ , and it hurt to take down the constant reminder that this house didn't belong to them. That it once used to be a  _home_.

They replaced the disturbing cowboy painting with a photo of the three of them they took at Isabella's first birthday party.  _It was lovely_. Louis wiggled his finger underneath Picture Harry's nose and Harry smacked Louis' shoulder, cackling that hyena laugh of his.  _That sound was even lovelier._

Louis finally gave up his freedom and parked his joyride in the garage, covering his beloved motorcycle, Beautiful Beatrice, with a blanket with only an ounce of hesitation. He was resolutely saying good bye to his bachelor pad lifestyle.

After they were done, they made some fresh squeezed lemonade and hung up a hammock big enough for two out in the backyard where they soaked up the oncoming summer sun. They laid together in the hammock and sipped their lemonades, sharing stories in the bright light. It was starting to feel a lot like home.

"Stop thinking."

"Hmm?"

"You're doing that thing that you do where you zone out and think. Your nose gets all twitchy."

Louis quirked a smile when Harry bopped him on the nose. He shooed Harry's hand away, a quiet smile settling on his lips. It became clear to him then that they knew each other in ways he couldn't comprehend. It could be a tentative smile or an eyebrow raise and Harry would know exactly what Louis was thinking without any words being said. Louis wasn't sure how he felt about that.

"Do you think we're doing the right thing for Isabella? I mean, what if she was better off with another family who wanted her and cared for her?"

"Eleanor got in your head, didn't she?"

Louis sniffed, turning his head to admire Harry's profile. The rays from the sunlight illuminated Harry's face in a soft glow. The tips of Harry's eyelashes were painted a muted goldenrod color, specks of golden olive shining in the bright green of his eyes. Louis gulped, his mouth suddenly feeling dry.

"All I know is that together, Isabella, you and me are a family. That's all we have. And it's more than enough."

Louis nodded, letting Harry's words zip through him like bolts of electricity, setting every fibre of his being on fire. He felt warm fingertips slide on the underside of his wrist where his pulse was beating rapidly. Harry stopped before they reached Louis' fingers, his touch so damn gentle.

"Do you..." Harry started saying softly then stopped abruptly. He tried again. "Do you think Eleanor's pretty?"

"Who?"

"Eleanor from social services."

Louis blinked confusedly into the sun. He frowned at Harry, who was looking away with his cheeks tinted pink. Harry seemed oddly shy all of a sudden.

"Where's this coming from?"

Harry gave a measly one-shouldered shrug.

Louis finally settled on, "She's not really my type."

Harry turned his head to the side to face Louis, gasping a bit when he realized how close they were. The tip of Louis' upturned, button nose touched the tip of Harry's long, slender nose. A wet puff of breath spilled out of Harry's parted mouth.

"What  _is_  your type?"

_A leggy, charming, Bambi-eyed, Christmas-y-nosed, awkward, hot mess._

Louis swallowed tightly and licked his lips. His face burned when Harry kept staring at his eyelashes, his collarbones, his  _mouth_. He cupped Harry's cheek and left it there for a moment before pulling away, his fingertips twitching against his thigh now.

"When I find someone I fancy, I'll let you know."

Louis closed his shimmering eyelids, still able to feel Harry's lingering gaze on him. He imagined a world where they held hands, touched lips and Isabella was truly theirs. He smiled under the sun and imagined Harry's lips on his shoulder before his touch was gone, leaving a cold trail in its wake.

 **SUMMER**  
Louis blinked blearily. He scrubbed his eyes with his fists until everything came into focus, bits and pieces of last night's memories rewinding in his head. He remembered soft lips, warm hands and curly hair. He looked to his left and smiled to himself, a head full of curly, brown locks of hair sleeping on the bed next to him. He licked his lips in hot anticipation, his fingers already itching out to touch him.

The person grumbled in their sleep and rolled over to face Louis, the smile on his face faltering. A girl with choppy, stray curls was looking at Louis, her eyes big and brown. She looked warm and sedated and Louis hardly remembered her name or how they met, but he still smiled at her regardless.

"Morning, Tommo."

"Morning..."

 _What was her name again?_ Louis scrambled to think.  _Holly? Haley?_

"Hazel."

Hazel smiled widely at Louis and kissed him softly on the lips. After a moment, Louis kissed Hazel back and hoped he wasn't sporting any morning breath. Judging by the way Hazel sucked on his bottom lip, Louis didn't think so.

Hazel rolled over on top of him, Louis surprised at the swift movement, and crawled down his body, the bed sheets covering her head. Louis clenched his legs at the abrupt lick up the shaft of his cock, a breath stuttering out of his open lips.

_Okay, then. That...that's some good shit._

Louis relaxed on the mattress with loose limbs and let Hazel suck him whole.

After that great morning blowjob, (Louis had a knack at picking up one-night stands with a certain skill set) Louis walked Hazel to the front entrance with a satisfied smile playing on his lips. Hazel looked up at Louis, her hair still mussed from where Louis pushed her head to go down even further. If Louis was completely straight or liked girls better, Hazel would have been the exact type of girl he would fall for.

"Oh, and thank you for dinner. Next time it's my treat."

Hazel grinned at Louis, kissing him good bye on the cheek and closing the door behind herself. Louis smiled to himself, feeling fluid in his movements and ready to take on the world.

_That really was a good morning blowjob._

From the hallway, Harry shook his head scornfully and scoffed. Harry crouched on the floor and held Isabella up, encouraging her to take tiny steps forward.

"Right foot, left foot, right foot, left foot."

The pitter patter of Isabella's feet padded on the hardwood floor, Isabella babbling happily.

"Would you stop that already? She'll walk when she's got somewhere to go, alright?" Louis reprimanded, picking Isabella up by her arms.

"All books say that at fifteen months she should be walking or talking by now, but she's not doing either."

Harry frowned, pouting his lips at Isabella. Isabella laughed happily and clapped her hands, leaning forward and puckering her lips for a kiss. Harry humored her and gave her a fishy kiss on the mouth.

"And my kiss?" Louis asked teasingly, presenting his cheek. Harry rolled his eyes and gave Louis a light slap instead. Louis smiled playfully at Harry with squinted eyes. "You know, all books say you should be married with 2.2 kids and look at your life."

Harry rolled his eyes again but kept the smile on his face small.

"Oh, by the way, that poor girl thinks that she's going to dinner with you."

"And what's the alternative? "Bye, I'll never see you again."" Louis ridiculed, shooting Harry a lighthearted glare. " _No_ , that would be mean."

Louis almost felt bad for Hazel but then again didn't. Hazel was smart enough that she understood their rendezvous consisted nothing more than a one-night stand.

"Where do you meet these women anyway?" Harry's eyebrows furrowed, his bottom lip jutting out. "I mean, if you're not with me and Bella, you're at work."

"I've been places," Louis said in a lilt with a satisfied smirk.

"Huh. Interesting." Harry nodded, bemused.

Later that afternoon when Harry was taking his Me Time bath, Louis was in the living room with Isabella, sitting on the floor with his hands extended behind himself and Isabella plopped beside him. Louis and Isabella finished watching an episode of a children's cartoon called Wonder Pets, Louis paying special attention to the show while Isabella was distracted by her toys.

"Wow, that was a really good episode. What I liked about Ming Ming was that even though they lost the game, she really learned something valuable like teamwork," Louis commented absentmindedly, looking over to see Isabella standing up on wobbly legs. "You know?"

Louis looked away just in time to miss Isabella taking her first tentative step.

"I didn't see that one coming. How about—" Louis did a double take and widened his eyes, astonished when Isabella took another cautious step. "Stay right—You stay right...Harry...Harry? Harry! She's standing. She's about to walk, get out here!"

"What?  _Now?"_ Harry called from the bathroom, soap suds covering his chin in a foamy Santa beard and sinking into bubbly water.

"Hurry up!"

"She can't walk now..." Harry said slowly, realization dawning on his features as he frantically shouted, "She can't walk now!"

"Well, she's about to! Hurry up and get down here!" Louis called out, putting his hands up as a makeshift stop sign to stop Isabella from walking again. "Wait, you stay right there."

"Wait."

Harry almost fell over the tub, promptly kneeing himself in the groin area. He inwardly groaned and reached for a fluffy towel, struggling to find his balance.

"Hurry up!"

"Coming, hold on, just stall her. I'm coming, I'm coming, hold up!" Harry yelled in panicky voice, running down the stairs in just a towel wrapped around his waist. His hair was sticky with bubble bath soap and water trickled on the nape of his neck and down his back. "Just stall her. Stall her!"

"I can't! How do you want me to stall her? How do I stall her?" Louis asked anxiously.

"Just stall her, I don't know!"

"What do you want me to—" In a moment of sheer panic, Louis pushed Isabella until she tumbled to the floor and onto her bum. "Oh, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

"Okay."

Harry reached the living room a second too late, gripping his hurting foot from when he stepped on a toy truck along the way. He took in the sight of Isabella crying on the floor, Louis exasperatedly trying to soothe her by stroking her back.

"What did you do?"

"You told me to stall her, so I just I gave her a little shove."

"I told you to stall her, not traumatize her," Harry huffed and grabbed her, Isabella continuing to wail. Isabella rested her head on his chest, Harry cooing at her before angrily shouting at Louis, "Now she'll never walk!"

"Okay, this is  _not_  my fault!"

"What did the bad man do?" Harry coaxed in a baby voice.

"Pretty sure it was  _your_  fault," Louis shot back.

*

"Homemade noodles?" Louis asked, watching Harry crouch by the high chair and try another attempt at feeding Isabella.

Up until now, Isabella continued to resist eating Harry's homecooked meals. No matter how hard Harry tried or how many different ingredients he used to spice up her food  _(not literally)_  Isabella wouldn't have it. Isabella was living off of Gerber food, crisps, fruit and Pringles. Besides the fruit, her daily nutrition was inedible in Harry's opinion.

Harry hadn't tried soft noodles yet, so here he was, the crick in his neck pestering him, but his eyes remained focused and his mouth sputtered out plane noises to trick Isabella into eating a mouthful.

"Yes. She's the only person in the state who doesn't like my cooking.  _Now_  it's personal," Harry answered. He turned to Isabella and swooped the spoon down. "C'mon, one bite."

Isabella opened her mouth and Harry took this as his opportunity. Harry shoved the spoonful of noodles inside until Isabella closed her mouth around the spoon. He licked his lips, Isabella licking her lips as well and smiling a little.

"Oh my god. I did it!" Harry cackled uproariously, jumping up and down excitedly.

Louis laughed along with Harry, the crinkles by his eyes pronounced from his happiness. Harry quieted down and stared at Louis for a few seconds, his lips glistening with saliva and curving into a blinding smile. There were moments like these where it felt like time stood still between them. Even when there were other people around them, it always felt like it was only Louis and Harry. Together. Always.

Suddenly, the moment felt grandiose as if Louis was about to sweep Harry off his feet, dip him and kiss him until both of their mouths were bruised. But in reality, they were not together and Louis definitely did not imagine these thoughts. Louis was  _not_  a romantic. He was  _not_  in love. Especially not with  _Harry Styles._ However, watching Harry watch him like  _that_ was making Louis' heart lurch and his breathing stutter.

Harry smiled even wider, his cheek dimpling. He ran into Louis' arms in a bone-crushing hug. Instinctively, Louis looped his arms around Harry and hugged him tightly, connecting them from chest to chest, ribcage to ribcage, heart to heart. Louis buried his nose into Harry's neck and breathed him in. He couldn't get enough of Harry's lovely smell.

Maybe Louis wasn't in love, but he definitely found Harry endearing. This boy...this gangly, lovely boy who had a heart made out of gold and cared for every single person he met, crawled into each and every crevice of Louis' heart and taken residency there.

Maybe Louis was not in love, but maybe he was closer to the feeling more and more with every day that passed. Those dark times when he had used drunken one-night stands to fill the empty ache inside were now replaced by sheer fondness for the other man.

Isabella looked up at her daddies hugging tightly with shining, starry eyes.


	11. That Ain't Your Baby No More

* * *

Louis and Harry walked around Tesco doing some light grocery shopping with Isabella seated inside of the shopping cart. Staring eyes burned flirtatiously in Louis' direction, unabashedly checking him out despite Harry walking alongside him. Men and women alike cast longing looks at Louis, some even going as far as licking their lips like they wanted to devour him. Louis suppressed his wicked grin by scrunching his lips to the side, obviously enjoying every minute of it.

Harry openly gaped at Louis. "Oh my god."

"What?" Louis asked obliviously.

"This is why you were always so happy to run to the grocery shop. Because this is where you pick up women. You use Isabella to get laid."

"She had to pay back somehow. Isn't that right?"

Isabella merely smiled up at Louis with spit drooling on her chin. Louis wiped Isabella's chin clean and cooed at her, stopping at the hot buffet of food to grab some lunch. Harry shook his head and grabbed a plate, stacking noodles and steamed vegetables onto the porcelain dish.

"I want to see it."

"See what?"

"I want to see you work your Tommo magic."

Louis raised both of his eyebrows, glancing around the crowded grocery shop and noticing some women were still looking his way.

"What? You want me to pick you up?  _Here?"_

"Yes, I want you to loop back around and pretend I'm one of those tweedy little gym girls."

Harry fluttered his fingers in the air as if to further emphasize his point.

"Okay, that's just ridiculous. I'm not gonna pretend to pick you up," Louis chided in a ridiculing tone.

"Ugh. You're such a killjoy."

Harry grabbed another plate and stacked it with macaroni and cheese, Louis' and Isabella's favorite. Sometimes it seemed like he was taking care of two babies and not just one.

While women lingered their eyes on Louis' thighs and arse, Louis was distracted by Harry who was dressed in an orange floral flowing shirt and tight black jeans with his usual pair of scratched Chelsea boots. Louis' throat bobbed as his eyes roamed the length of Harry's body, drinking him in.

Louis noticed a rack of spices standing next to the buffet, inspecting it closer before grabbing a random packet. He licked his lips and gnawed on the thin cushion of his lower lip. He approached Harry, raising the packet of black acai berries beside his face.

"Hey, you know, I read about these. It's supposed to be really good for kids, but I can't—How do you pronounce it? Is it akai?"

"Ah-sah-ee," Harry enunciated.

"Ah-sah-ee?" Louis repeated.

"Mm-hmm."

"Oh. You must really have an ear for languages, huh?"

"Mmh. Not really. I mean, I took Spanish all throughout secondary school. Did pretty well. Got good grades," Harry babbled then promptly stopped mid-sentence, catching onto Louis' game. He raised his eyebrows in surprise, his mouth slightly parting open in awe. His eyes twinkled in mirth. "Oh, you're good. You're  _very_  good. I see how this works for you."

Louis felt another smug smile slip onto his cheeks but for an entirely different reason this time. He flushed in pride from Harry's praise and trophy smile. It was one of his favorite things to do besides make Harry laugh so hard he chortled.

"Harry?" a kind voice called out.

Louis turned around to see a red-haired man walking towards them. The man was clean cut shaved and dressed professionally. Louis scratched his growing scruff, feeling self-conscious in his comfortable Adidas gear. Compared to Mr. Ginger, Louis was dirty and scruffy in appearance.

Harry flushed happily from the top of his head to the bottom of his feet, stuttering out an informal introduction.

"Oh, it's Ed, Bella's doctor. Ed— _Dr_. Ed...Dr. Sheeran."

"Ed? You call him Ed?" Louis teased with lifted eyebrows.

Harry never got nervous around other men. He was confident and shameless, and if anything, other men would stumble on their own feet trying to get to him. At this point, Louis knew Harry was beautiful. Harry was kind and sweet and he usually never lost his smooth demeanor over someone like Ed who dulled in comparison.

Something bright and red akin to jealousy curled inside his lower stomach, Louis feeling hot all over. Louis bit the inside of his lower lip, mentally cursing himself to get under control.

"Ed."

Ed introduced himself, reaching out a hand. Louis looked at Ed's outstretched hand for a moment.

"Hey, I'm Tommo. S'nice to meet you."

Louis offered his own hand for Ed to shake. He was nothing but a polite gentleman  _thank you very much._

"Is this your, uh—?"

Ed pointed between them, his eyes flicking from Harry's to Louis' then back to Harry's again.

"No! No, no, no, no. We're not...um. We just—Um..." Harry struggled to explain.

"Sounds complicated," Ed laughed.

"We raise Bella together," Louis explained, coming to Harry's rescue. He patted Harry's cheek fondly. "You know, Harry has always mentioned how much he really likes Bella's doctor. A few times actually. I just thought you were really good with kids, but now I know—"

"Tommo? Can you just walk away?" Harry interrupted, his lips pressed in a tight smile.

Louis shoved his hands deep into his pockets, shrugging mindlessly.

"I'm alright here."

"Can you give me a minute? Can you just give me a minute?"

Louis raised his hands defensively, walking backwards and pulling away the shopping cart with Isabella still inside. He looked over his shoulder and blinked wide baby blue eyes at Harry.

"Thank you." Harry shot Louis a tiny smile and turned to Ed, his smile morphing into a shy one. "Sometimes Bella's more of a grown-up."

"So how does this work between you two? You split up most of the work?"

"Yes, we have a chart. A very  _big_  chart," Harry said with an easy grin.

"Chart? That chart give you any time off?" Ed asked, his eyes warm and his smile kind.

Harry had forgotten how gorgeous Ed was.

"Yes. Monday, Wednesday and every other Friday."

"Friday? Do you have Bella this Friday?"

"No." Harry relished in the answer happily like Christmas had come early.

"Eight o'clock Friday? I think my office has your information."

"They sure do."

"I'll call you out."

"Thank you."

Louis had one foot tapping restlessly on the shopping cart, looking over his shoulder to glance at Harry's and Ed's exchange. Harry was giggling and smiling brightly, lurching his body forward in earnest. They were close enough that they could intertwine their fingers together if they wanted to.

Louis fixed the Adidas cap on top of his head and grunted bitterly to himself.  _What did this Ed_ _bloke_ _have that he didn't?_  Sure, Ed looked nicer, dressed nicer and probably spoke nicer. But Louis was one of a kind. He made people laugh so hard they would snort milk from their noses and he was so attractive to get laid on a daily basis.  _Who wouldn't want that?_

Harry waved at Ed good bye and walked over to Louis, a skip in his step. He seemed overly happy and enthused. Anyone with half a brain could tell Harry's body language was different from before.

"You were  _so_  right. This is such a great place to meet people," Harry revealed like he was telling a special secret.

Louis scoffed under his breath and followed Harry, his shoulders slumping. While Harry bounced with every light step, Louis felt the weight of the world drag him down. Louis didn't know how or when it happened, but he was jealous. Infinitely. Louis felt it in the tight grip of his fists and in the way he curled his toes inside his shoes. He didn't know when he started being jealous over somebody else having Harry's attention solely on them. It was then that he realized it was an utmost privilege to have Harry's full blown attention, especially when Harry would sport shining eyes and pink lips parted in awe, waiting to hear whatever words were going to fall out of Louis' mouth next.

Louis trudged along and ignored the crushing feeling in his chest.

*

At eight o'clock sharp, Harry walked down the staircase with Louis following closely behind, Louis teasing him all the way to the bottom of the stairs. Louis absolutely  _loved_  how flustered Harry got, how his cheeks would tinge pink and his hands would get all clammy. Harry became a blubbering, stuttering, awkward, hot mess and it wouldn't be until Louis let up the flirting that Harry stopped being so nervous.

"So what time does Dr _. Love_  get here?"

"Any minute now. And stop calling him that," Harry said with a frown.

"I can't believe he asked you out. Doesn't that defy some doctor-patient thing?"

"Well, he's a pediatrician so if he's dating a patient, yeah, that would be a problem."

"So if you guys have sex is he gonna tell you what percentile you have?"

Harry laughed, all bright and unabashed, and it made Louis flush all the way down to the tips of his toes. Louis felt victorious at making Harry laugh like that, Harry's smile rueful and his face flushing in pleasure. He didn't recall he would be the one getting flustered around Harry, but as it was, everything was always new with Harry.

The doorbell chimed announcing Ed's arrival. Harry rushed over to open the front door in an excited hurry.

"Hi," Harry greeted warmly, allowing Ed to walk inside.

"Hey.  _Wow_. You look..." Ed trailed off, openly checking Harry out up and down.

Louis rolled his eyes in annoyance. Ed was getting everything Louis would never have. He was getting a date with Harry which meant he was spending time with him without having to come up with a lame excuse to do so. Harry had dressed up all nice for Ed and Louis couldn't remember the last time Harry dressed nice for  _him_. All Louis saw him wear around the house was old flannels and ripped jeans.

 _The jeans Harry often wore around Louis weren't even_ tight _, for Christ's sake._

"Better not say anything and best keep a couple cards off the table. Hey, Tommo."

"Hey." Louis shook hands with Ed, tightening his grip in Ed's a little. "How are you doing, Doc?"

"Thanks for giving him the night off," Ed said with a slight grimace, flexing his hand behind his back surreptitiously.

Louis smirked, his voice complacent to say, "You know, he tried on everything in his closet. Yeah, pretty much impossible to blow this one off."

" _Okay_ ," Harry drawled, his voice closer to a snort and an eye roll. "We're going now."

Harry took Ed's arm and opened the door, walking outside into the cool breeze before Louis called out, "You know, he hasn't had any for a while!"

"Oh, God, stop it!" Harry whispered in a harsh rasp, glaring at Louis over his shoulder.

"Call me if you need me!"

After they crossed the next town over, Harry and Ed walked alongside each other through a dark alleyway, trash cans collected on either side of them. Goosebumps prickled over Harry's skin, the cool wind shifting the leaves on the ground in a songless night. Harry took a deep breath and tried to recollect his sanity before he lost it. He didn't like unpredictable circumstances.

"You know, if you wanted to kill me, there were dumpsters on my side of town a lot closer," Harry joked  _(except not really)_.

"You don't like to be surprised, do you?" Ed chuckled.

"Well, I'm a bit of a control freak."

"Here we are."

Ed motioned to the back of a dark and tall building. It was larger than most of the other buildings, but it still looked eerily haunting. Harry inspected the backside of the property as best as he could with his eyes adjusting to the dark before he decided it looked the same as the other buildings.

" _Okay_ ," Harry drawled nervously. "Backstage at a concert?"

"I am  _not_  that cool," Ed laughed again.

It seemed like Ed was always doing that around Harry. In all honesty, Harry liked a bit of a challenge and a chase. Harry especially liked earning somebody's attention when it was first hard to capture. He thought of blue eyes and a sharp mouth. He thought of delicate wrists and smooth skin. He thought of scruff that would give him burns on his sensitive thighs and hurtful words that he would never forget. He lingered on the thought of rewarding touches the most.

Instead, Harry found himself staring into pale blue eyes than the chartreuse eyes he had grown accustomed to. He didn't see flower-shaped lips or tempting golden skin or ruffled bed head hair.

Harry licked his wind-chapped lips, filling the gaps of their silent conversation with words that held no meaning.

"No? Not Kings Of Leon? Fleetwood Mac?"

They walked inside passing by chefs dressed in white coats and top hats. The smell of sizzling meats and cooked vegetables made Harry's stomach growl in hunger. They rounded the corner and found a small table dressed in a white embroidered tablecloth with fancy cutlery adorned on top. Red roses in a vase filled with water were placed in the middle of the table as a centerpiece. Realization hit Harry, his jaw going slack and his eyes growing like two large saucers.

"This is..."

Ed rubbed his hands together, smiling proudly. "Restaurant Ramsay. The owner and executive chef has three daughters and one son."

"You treat Chef Gordon Ramsay's kids?" Harry asked incredulously.

"I do," Ed remarked.

"Dr. Sheeran," a pleasant voice reached out towards them.

They turned around to see Gordon Ramsay himself, dressed elegantly in a black crewneck shirt underneath a gray watercraft suit by Zara and topped off with a white pocket square. Gordon looked absolutely lovely. Harry's throb of his pulse bobbed with the motion of his hard swallowing. He smiled shakily and palmed his sweaty hands on his trousers.

"Gordon."

"Hey." Gordon shook Ed's hand first, then Harry's with a strong and firm grip. "Gordon Ramsey."

"Such a pleasure," Harry whispered weakly.

"No, no. The pleasure's all mine. Special setup right here. C'mon."

Gordon gestured for them to follow him and guided Harry by a hand on his lower back. Harry almost fainted with the slight pressure from Gordon's warm touch.

"So how are the beautiful girls?"

"They're very healthy. They have a good doctor," Gordon replied in a charming voice, winking afterwards.

Ed and Harry chimed in pleasant laughter.

Back home, Louis was sitting on the sofa in the living room. He clasped his hands together, smiling at the person in front of him in the way that made his eyes crinkle at the edges.

"You know, I don't do a lot of dinner dates, really. What about you?"

Isabella pouted adorably, her top teeth snagging on the cushion of her bottom lip. She hummed, her chin sticky-sweet from watermelon.

"How about we just relax and get to know each other? What do you say?" Louis smashed the watermelon into smaller chunks inside the plastic bowl. "You live around here? Upstairs? Well, I just live right around the corner in the telly room. I knew I'd seen you somewhere around here. Excellent choice in the crushed watermelon by the way."

Louis fed her a spoonful of watermelon, Isabella humming her content and succeeding in getting more watermelon juice smeared on her cheek.

"I'm sorry if I'm a little nervous. It's just that I don't meet babies like you. To be honest, I like older men and women."

Isabella looked up at Louis, her big brown eyes questioning. She raised her eyebrow at him as if to disagree, Louis squinting at the oddly familiar gesture.

"Well, not that much older," Louis pacified.

Louis reached out and placed a hand over Isabella's forehead, testing her temperature. Isabella fussed in her spot in the high chair and started sniffling, beads of sweat forming on her temples.

"Oh, you are getting warmer, kiddo," Louis mused worriedly.

Back at the restaurant, the lights were dim to cast a cozy glow, the heat from the ovens making Harry's cheeks warm. Harry pulled the tie away from his neck, feeling hot all over. Prongs from forks scraped the dishes, glasses clinking against each other.

"I can't believe you've never come here to eat," Harry said accusingly.

"I never used to eat out much. My ex-wife would cook so we would stay home a lot."

Harry stopped cutting his appetizing scallops. The smile on his face dimmed. He set his fork and knife down, pursuing his lips and raising one inquisitive brow.

"You were married?" Harry asked dully.

"You like how I snuck that in there?" Ed smirked, continuing to slice his scallop.

Harry nodded, his lips pressing shut. He tried for a smile, but it came out all wrong, didn't reach his eyes. Thankfully, his phone rang in his trousers pocket, Harry offering an apology to Ed and fishing his buzzing phone out. He looked at the caller ID, noticing it was Louis who was calling and quickly picked up the call.

"Tommo, I get one night off," Harry sighed exasperatedly.

"I'm not calling for you, I'm calling for Dr. Love."

The joke fell flat, Louis' voice straining to be heard over Isabella's wails carrying through the line. Harry could tell Louis was stressed by the sound of his tightly drawn voice.

"Okay, alright. Hold on. I'm sorry," Harry apologized to Ed again, handing the phone across the table. "Tommo wants to talk to you. It must be a Bella question."

"Hey." A dramatic pause. Harry leaned over the table with wide eyes and attentive ears. "It could be a couple things. Take her down to the ER in St. Augustus. It's a Friday, so Dr. Moe is on call. I'll give him a call so you won't have to wait. We'll see you there in about an hour."

Ed ended the call with a  _click_. He handed back the phone, explaining matter-of-factly, "Bella's temperature spiked. They're gonna need at least an hour to evaluate her so—"

"We gotta go," Harry interrupted, standing up abruptly and leaving the warm space without another word.

" _Or_  we could go," Ed exhaled disappointedly.

When Harry and Ed arrived at the hospital, they found Louis with Isabella inside one of the emergency rooms. Louis was biting on a hangnail, his fingernails dull from nervous biting. Harry reached for Louis immediately and pulled him into a tight hug even with Ed watching them awkwardly from behind. Ed excused himself and left them embracing each other. By the time he returned, Louis and Harry were sitting in the waiting chairs by Isabella's bed. Isabella was crying profusely, her eyes puffy and her cheeks red. Harry stood up as Ed approached them, Ed holding a manila folder containing Isabella's tests.

"Bella has a urinary tract infection. So we're gonna put her on an antibiotic drip that just gets the medication in her system but faster. I'll stop by first thing in the morning and check up on her," Ed explained gently.

"Thank you so much."

Louis nodded, some of the tension leaving his body in a limp state. He sat down and watched as Ed pulled Harry into a private area where they were too far away to eavesdrop on.

"I was kinda looking forward to dropping you home," Ed admitted shyly, rubbing the back of his neck in a sort of bashful way. "I haven't rehearsed this whole thing in my mind."

Harry cupped Ed's face and leaned in, kissing him softly. Ed sighed into Harry's mouth, his shoulders relaxing from how Harry was touching him like fine china. Harry nipped on Ed's bottom lip, swiping his tongue inside for a quick taste. The kiss was soft and quick before Ed could deepen it, Harry pulling away and licking his own lips. It made Ed want to chase after him, the taste of Harry's mouth sitting so sweetly on his tongue.

Louis watched them from afar, his bottom teeth bared and curling over his top lip. He looked away quickly, the sight of Harry kissing another man burning his vision. He couldn't spend another second looking at them because he knew he was about to break down. His heart was racing. The wind was knocked out of him. He didn't know what to think. He didn't know how to sit. He didn't know if he should keep his hands inside or outside of his pockets. All he knew was that he felt betrayed although he had no reason to be.

"That was even better than I rehearsed it," Ed murmured, smiling pleasantly. Harry wanted to kiss him again. "I'll call you later."

"Okay. Thank you, um, again."

Harry waved good bye, walking away sheepishly with a blush high on his cheeks.

Louis didn't talk much on the ride home. He ignored Harry's concerned glances and claimed he was just tired. Harry had made his choice.

That night, Louis slept on the sofa downstairs for the first time in months. He disregarded the disappointment drawing across Harry's face and reminded himself that Harry was going to have a new body keep him warm in bed. Louis experienced the worst sleepless night, falling into an uncomfortable sleep by the crack of dawn.

*

"Her temp's coming down!" Louis exclaimed after checking Isabella's temperature with a thermometer.

"Clothes. Daycare. Monthly food bill. And now a twelve-hundred-dollar bill from the emergency room. At this rate, one of us is going to have to sell a kidney," Harry painfully groaned.

Harry rifled through the letters one last time and discarded them on the table. He stood up and walked over to the kitchen island, picking at a Chrysanthemum's leaf with his forefinger and thumb.

"Having a kid is expensive, we talked about that," Louis replied calmly, standing next to Harry.

"Having kids and an expansion shop is a bit much."

"Where'd you get the flowers?" Louis propped his hands on his hips, his eyebrows pinching together.

"Ed sent them today. I haven't even called him back yet. I mean, how can I? I'm a disaster. I can't be this person on the second date. This is what you save for marriage, like, ten years in."

Harry carried the vase of white Chrysanthemums into the living room and set them down on top of the mahogany coffee table.

"Look, don't stress about the money. We'll be fine."

"I'll just call James and we'll patch up the wall." Harry fell backwards on the sofa, grunting when his joints popped. "Maybe in a few years we can revisit it or something."

"Wait, you're gonna pull the plug on the remodel?"

Louis sat down across from Harry, his forearms hanging off his knees. He looked rugged and handsome with a concerned look etched on his face. Harry wanted to reach over and smooth out the crinkles by Louis' eyes with his thumbs.

Harry refrained from doing so and instead clarified, "I can't increase the construction loan. I'll just have a shop and not a restaurant. It's fine. It will be okay."

"You know, I can give you the money. I have savings."

"No, no, I can't let you do that," Harry rushed out. "I'm not taking your savings."

"Well, I want to, okay? We're raising a kid together. We're living in this house together. This is just part of it." Louis leaned forward, his face composed into the most serious expression Harry had ever seen him wear. "Having somebody help you doesn't mean you failed. It just means you're not in it alone."

"Okay, but it can't be a gift," Harry reasoned. He uncrossed his legs and leaned forward, matching Louis' composure. "I won't take it unless it's an investment."

"Fine. I'm an investor in Fraish."

Harry giggled in the way only a man could giggle and pulled on his lower lip using his thumb and index finger. Louis tracked Harry's motions, his smile widening and dragging his tongue across his lips to wet them. Harry lost himself staring into Louis' eyes, searching for an answer he didn't know the question to. Harry slowly shook himself out of it, his cheek dimpling where his smile remained. He seemed to be doing a lot of that as of late.

"You're an investor in Fraiche _,_ "Harry corrected politely.

"Fraiche. Sorry."

Louis rolled his eyes, still smiling to prove he was merely joking.

"And as an investor, that entitles you to two percent of the profits."

"Three percent."

"Two percent and hey! A discount on food and wine." Harry raised his eyebrows, his eyes lighting up with excitement.

"What's the discount?"

"Ten percent."

"Fifteen percent," Louis challenged Harry.

Harry loved a good challenge. "Ten percent." His voice lowered down to a whisper as if he was divulging a precious secret. "It's a  _great_  discount."

"Alright, can you throw in dinner?" Louis surrendered, scrunching his lips to the side in a tight-lipped smirk.

"Oh, deal. Awesome!"

Harry stood up and took him into his arms when Louis stood up at the same time, hugging him so tightly there was no room left to breathe. Louis curled into Harry instantly as if he knew every body part by memory; where Harry's soft spots were and where he liked to be tickled best. He nuzzled his face into Harry's neck in a caress, pressing his smiling lips on Harry's burning skin. Harry smelled good. He  _always_  smelled good even when he was sweaty and dirty after a good work-out.

Harry had one arm wounded tight around Louis' shoulder and the other wrapped around his waist, anchoring him. Louis hid his smile on Harry's shoulder, digging his thumbs onto Harry's back. His breathing stilled, suddenly aware of their bodies pressing closely together and the searing burn of Harry's touch where his fingers grasped skin. He could feel Harry's heart beating against his.

Harry was oblivious to it all, only gushing out, "Oh my God. Thank you so much! It's huge! Okay, dinner tonight. On me. You and me."

Harry let go of Louis and gave him another huge smile, walking away and missing the quirk of Louis' lips and the fond expression playing out in his eyes. Louis shivered and wrapped his arms around himself, the press of Harry's warm body still so present.

Louis lived to make Harry smile, to make him happy. No more were the days where he would pull childish pranks on Harry or tease him mercilessly in front of the others as an attempt to embarrass him. Now all Louis wanted to do was brag about Harry so everybody could be proud of him like he was too.

Louis looked after Harry. And Harry had begun to feel like home.


	12. I've Got Love On My Fingers, Lust On My Tongue

* * *

Louis ran one hand through his hair, making sure it wasn't too stiff from hair products. He shrugged, spritzing one last whirl of hairspray into his artful quiff. He took a good look at himself in the mirror, trying to calm his breaths. He was having a date, a proper one at that, with Harry. He couldn't help the way his heartbeat spiked up at the mention of Harry's name even if it was just inside his head.

It was a bit ridiculous that Louis was going to pick up Harry at the bottom of the steps, but he was planning to be a gentleman after what he had made Harry go through on their first date. He wanted to make a lasting impression this time.

Louis hurried out of the bathroom and jogged down the last of the stair steps, fumbling with his shirt buttons. He palmed his skintight black jeans, Liam's voice in his head taunting,  _"Those are your fuck-me jeans, Tomlinson! You are_ so _getting laid tonight."_ He laughed quietly to himself, reaching Harry and Mathew, who were waiting for him by the door.

Louis almost tripped on his feet at the sight of Harry. Harry was wearing a snazzy purple paisley suit with a pair of metallic bronze boots, completing his look with black nail polish and an assortment of rings. He looked like sex, glamour and fashion all rolled into one lean mass with messy tresses. Louis wanted to press Harry up against the wall and kiss him senseless. It drove him crazy that he was forbidden to touch—to  _taste_.

"You look great," Louis complimented for lack of better words.

 _You look absolutely gorgeous_ is what Louis really wanted to say.

Harry grinned. "Thank you."

Mathew stood up from where he was seated on the floor playing with Isabella and her toys. He eyed Louis up and down, his mouth parting open around slow breaths. Louis frowned at him, feeling self-conscious under his unwavering gaze. Luckily, Harry broke the silence before it became too awkward.

"So here are all the numbers. My phone, his phone, the restaurant and the pediatrician."

Harry handed over a slip of paper to which Mathew accepted it. Silence ensued. They all stared at one another, Mathew faux-coughing into his fist.

"You know, you actually have to leave the house for me to do my job," Mathew said, looking warily between the two of them.

"Yes, okay!" Harry agreed, nodding at Mathew.

They said their good byes and left the house on Louis' motorcycle,  _(much to Louis' surprise)_  driving to Fraichein comfortable silence. Louis looked over his shoulder and couldn't help but smile when he saw Harry's hair whipping wildly from the wind underneath the safety helmet.  _He looked so lovely._

They got to Fraichein a matter of minutes, Louis hurrying to open the front door for Harry. Harry's surprised, "Oh, thanks," made Louis feel warm all over if not a little proud of himself. Louis was going to do this right tonight.

They walked into the warm space. Fairy lights twinkled on the ceiling and bowls of fresh fruits adorned the tables. The place looked a bit hipster-y, yet classic, with a touch of finesse alike high end gourmet restaurants. Louis roamed the place, picking at random knick-knacks while Harry set off into the kitchen to prepare dinner. He could definitely see this as a restaurant come to life.

Louis leaned against the chipped doorframe, watching Harry chop vegetables with swift hand movements. The sounds of a knife cutting on the board was the only noise in the otherwise quiet atmosphere. Louis walked towards Harry, hovering behind him and seeing him work his magic.

"This place is amazing, Harry. I can't believe I haven't been here before," Louis said, a smile evident in his tone.

Harry smiled, continuing to chop carrots. He flicked his hand across the board and swiped away the remainder of the vegetables stuck to the knife.

"Look at you! Kitchen ninja. You don't follow any kind of recipe?"

"No, this is the only place in life where I do  _not_  follow a plan," Harry murmured softly.

After Harry finished preparing dinner with minimal help from Louis, ("I swear, Haz. I can do it, I'm not rendered completely useless." "Alright. Start whisking that for me, please." "How do you whisk?") they sat in the table with the only white tablecloth draped over it. They ate over lit candles, the room smelling like cinnamon which made the food taste better somehow. They laughed and joked and, at one point, their legs tangled underneath the table, playing Adult Footsie like the first night they stayed at the house.

Later, they were playing a game of bets until Louis quieted down with a mischievous smile in place. Louis bet against Harry that he couldn't ride his motorcycle without hilariously tipping over like a cow. Harry merely grinned at Louis from across the table, his smile warmer than the candle lights. He crossed his arms against his chest in a challenge and teetered on the legs of the chair, rocking back and forth.

Harry gave a confident, "I bet I can," and shook Louis' hand to seal their deal. Louis gaped at him, Harry standing up and walking away with a cheerful, "Let me show you how it's  _really_  done," and leaving behind a stunned Louis.

So that was how they found themselves with Harry perched on top of Louis' motorcycle. Louis gripped the handles, his heartbeat hammering wildly in his chest because this was the first time Harry was even  _near_ the pedals.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Louis asked a little  _(a lot)_  worriedly.

"I got this. A bet's a bet," Harry assured enthusiastically.

Louis tried to contain his fond as Harry pulled the helmet down his head, his curls flattening along his neck and covering his ears.

"You don't have to do this." Louis tried as a last resort to change Harry's mind.

"You know what I'm not sure about? The helmet. It's lame. I want something with thunderbolts and lighting on it."

Harry made a whooshing sound with his mouth, his eyebrows knitting together.

_God, he was being ridiculous._

Seeing that Harry was nowhere near to giving up on the idea, Louis shrugged carelessly.

_What was the worst that could happen?_

Louis bent down and gripped the kickstand, his other hand clutching Harry's leg to steady him.

"We're gonna pull up the choke. Turn on the ignition, pull out the clutcher. This is the clutch. Hold that in, hold that in," Louis ordered, pointing at the handles. Harry nodded and gripped the handles tightly. "Push the starter button." Harry did as he was told, the motorcycle roaring to life. "Alright, there we go. Left hand is the clutch, right hand is the grottle. Let's get your kickstand up."

"Oh, I'm on a fuckin' motorcycle!" Harry yelled, excitement visible in his bright green eyes.

"Easy there, Evel Knievel, we're not done. Okay, now we're in first gear. Now, hold that clutch, don't let go of that clutch until I get on the back," Louis demanded, his voice barely audible over the loud roar of the engine.

"Let go?" Harry repeated dumbly.

The next few minutes happened so fast Louis felt himself blank out. Louis remembered Harry letting go of the handles, causing the motorcycle to zip through the street like a wildfire. He remembered Harry falling backwards into his arms from the sheer force of it, catching him at the last second. He remembered his precious bike, Beautiful Beatrice, skid across the street and hit a streetlamp before toppling over onto its side, most likely scratching its beautiful paint job.

Harry gasped at the same time Louis' mouth fell open. Louis felt like crying.

"Oh my God. Oh, Tommo, I'm so sorry," Harry apologized, limp in Louis' arms.

"No, it's okay," Louis brushed him off weakly. He inspected Harry in his arms, looking for any bloody knee scrapes. "Are you alright?"

Harry stood up, facing Louis with wide apologetic eyes. He didn't have time to answer because a bus slammed into the motorcycle out of nowhere, making a screeching noise when it scraped over the metal. Louis definitely felt like crying now. He sat on his haunches, pressing his lips in a tight suppressed line.

"Oh, no. Oh, no. Are you mad?" Harry asked feebly.

"'M just gonna sit down," Louis whispered shakily, biting the inside of his lower lip hard enough to draw blood.

"I thought you said to let go. Do you want me to go talk to the bus driver, maybe?"

Louis nodded rapidly. Harry walked towards the bus, looking behind himself to see Louis press the heels of his hands into his eye sockets. He gulped heavily and walked the rest of the way in a walk of shame with guilt pressing at the back of his throat.

*

"I'm  _so_  sorry."

Harry apologized profusely to Louis for what seemed like the hundredth time that night.

"Don't worry about it," Louis assured, offering Harry a not so convincing smile.

"I'm gonna pay for it, I promise."

"It's fine. I'm actually awed that you didn't even drive it a foot before you destroyed it," Louis teased.

"I feel so bad. I'm really sorry," Harry bemoaned.

Harry wrung his hands nervously, stopping outside in front of the door to the house.

"Hey. It's fine, okay?" Louis turned his body towards Harry and gripped his shoulders. He shrugged his own. "It's just a bike."

Harry squinted his eyes at Louis suspiciously.

"Do you really mean that or you're just saying that 'cause if I keep talking you're gonna cry?"

"Get inside," Louis reproached.

Harry laughed properly then, relieved that Louis wasn't pissed at him. The last thing he wanted to do was upset him or ruin their date. They were having such a lovely time prior to the incident.

They walked inside finding Mathew lying on the floor where Isabella was draped over her toys with her neck bent in an uncomfortable angle.

"I didn't wanna move her," Mathew explained.

"It's okay," Harry said.

Mathew nodded, standing up to leave them to it.

"Mathew, wait a second." Louis stopped Mathew by a hand on his shoulder, Mathew nervously meeting Louis' kind eyes through his curly eyelashes. Louis held out a bill for him to take, gently teasing, "No backsies."

Mathew accepted the note with a shy smile. He tucked his hands into his back pockets, gaining the courage to say, "I think you guys make a really cute couple."

Mathew bit his lip and ran out the door before either Louis or Harry could stop him. Louis muffled a breathy laugh, Harry shaking his head and smiling at the floor.

"He said the same thing about Selena Gomez and that Justice Beaver kid," Harry muttered.

Louis snorted. He was about to correct Harry when his eyes settled on Harry's soft features. His eyes flitted down to Harry's unfairly pink lips and back up to his gorgeous green eyes. Harry licked his lips for show, Louis tracking the motion breathlessly and licking his own lips.

There were many hard decisions Louis had come across during his lifetime. Kissing Harry was not one of them. Louis didn't think twice before leaning in and pressing his lips to Harry's, breathing him in and giving him a chance to push Louis away if he wanted to. He didn't.

Harry inhaled through his nose sharply before reacting and cupping his hand on Louis' cheek, drawing him closer. He kissed Louis' needy lips again and again and then sucked the bottom one between his pointed teeth and swiped his tongue over it.

Louis had kissed many people in his life, but none were even remotely close to their kiss. Harry kissed with intent, with purpose, with feeling. It made Louis feel like a little boy who didn't really knew what to do with his mouth and left him playing a game of catch up.

 _He kisses like he touches, thorough and tender,_ Louis vaguely thought.  _And he's kissing_ me _._

Harry's mouth was hot and bruising and Louis opened his mouth to let the other boy lick inside. Sucking noises were the only sounds heard in the quiet room, their breaths matched and heavy, their body languages begging for more. Louis pushed his fingers into Harry's hair, giving him a light yank, Harry leaving a trail of heat where his hands touched Louis' body. He guided his hands to Harry's back, pressing him close so that no distance would be able to separate them.

Louis felt dizzy, dizzy, dizzy and realized belatedly that Harry was pushing him up the stairs. They moved as one, their lips connected and their bodies flushed together. Louis might faint.

They continued moving without breaking their kiss even when Harry stumbled upon the last stair step and caused his teeth to clash against Louis' teeth. Louis' laugh was muffled against Harry's bee stung lips. Harry bit on the soft cushion of Louis' bottom lip, his sharp little teeth snagging on the sensitive flesh. That shut Louis up really quick, his muffled laughs turning into muffled groans.

Louis fumbled with the doorknob, his back pressed against the door with Harry's body cornering him, his mouth bruised red and occupied. He finally flung the door wide open, Harry pushing him inside with one hand to his chest where his heart was beating furiously and the other cradling the nape of his neck.

Louis walked backwards until the back of his knees bumped the edge of the bed. He sighed when he felt fluttering fingertips unbutton his top, then Harry's fingers working quickly over his own shirt buttons. Harry slipped one of his hands into the opened side of Louis' shirt, curling his hand around Louis' accentuated ribs. He pushed Louis down on the bed, Louis' bum bouncing lightly on top of the mattress.

They laughed into each other's mouths, completely wrapped up in each other that they hadn't noticed which room they slipped into. Louis reluctantly detached himself from Harry's kissing lips in a wet slurp, his mouth panting heavy breaths at the realization of their surroundings.

"Oh my God, we're in their room," Harry whispered, his lips bitten and swollen.

"Not so scary," Louis commented absentmindedly.

"This room is beautiful. How come we haven't used it at all?" Harry picked at a loose thread sticking out of the white duvet between his fingers, mildly distracted from the important task at hand. Louis, however, was not distracted. "What brand are these sheets—"

Louis grabbed Harry by his open shirt, kissing him hungrily. Harry complied because it was  _Louis_ and he would spend a thousand years and then some doing whatever Louis asked.

Harry climbed on top of Louis' body, Louis' careful fingers slipping the shirt off from Harry's broad shoulders like he was unwrapping a birthday present. His eyes were locked on Louis' chest, his nipples, the little paunch of his stomach and his thighs. His lips were parted around wet breaths, his nostrils flaring a bit. He looked hungry in the way that made Louis' cock wet at the tip.

Harry pressed his fingertips to Louis' neck where he swore he felt the hammering of Louis' pulse jump underneath the skin. His breath was hot and wet on Louis' skin. He pressed a kiss to Louis' pulse point, giving it a nip and savoring the caramel taste. Louis tasted like salt and sweat but still so sweet.

Louis could feel Harry's cock hard in his trousers right up against his thigh and he pressed down onto him thoughtlessly. Harry's whole body shivered. Harry let out a gasp and dropped his forehead on Louis' shoulder for balance. He smoothed his thumbs over Louis' hard nipples until they tightened up.

Their gazes met and heat traveled in Harry's bloodstream like alcohol, drowning him in hot, dizzying liquor. Louis always made him feel vulnerable. Harry saw the question in those wide baby blue eyes, heard the shaking breaths drifting from those soft parted lips and all rational thought escaped his brain in a scurry.

At that moment, Harry wasn't thinking about Ed or his missed calls. He was thinking about the taste of Louis' mouth and how he tasted like slight toothbrushing even after a hot meal.

In a slow and careful motion, Harry cupped his hands on the either side of Louis' face like a promise, his gaze fixed on Louis' mouth, burning where he felt like he was losing himself before Louis' unblinking intense eyes. Louis' face felt like it was on fire from Harry's gaze, but he was determined not to squirm away.

Harry touched Louis' lips with the pad of his thumb. "You...Louis Tomlinson," he whispered, "Drive me fucking insane."

Louis growled, a soft rasp emitting his throat. He pulled Harry even closer by a strong grip on his neck and kissed him until his lips went numb. Harry tilted up Louis' chin for a deeper kiss, dragging his wet tongue across Louis' bottom lip in a soft suction that made Louis feel like he was spinning. He kissed the corner of Louis' mouth and his jawline, nosing along the line of his neck and breathing in deep.

"You smell so good," Harry murmured, his voice so slow he sounded drugged.

Harry suddenly thought that he was giving all of himself away to Louis and he particularly didn't care if Louis broke him. He would rather endure the pain that Louis gave him than be happy with somebody else. Others didn't carry the same mischievous blue eyes or biting curved mouth. Others didn't have Louis' careful hands or thick athletic thighs or the most amazingly glorious round arse the world had been blessed with.

" _God_ ," Harry murmured, looking at Louis so intensely that Louis' stomach churned nervously. "You're so—"

Harry grabbed Louis' hands and pressed them to his chest, Louis' cold fingers sending shivers to run up and down Harry's spine. His breath was warm on Louis' face and Louis' heart was pounding fiercely. A crackle of electricity zipped through Louis in a feel-good tingle. Louis was so embarrassed and horny and desperate for it.

"Fuck," Harry murmured against Louis' mouth. "Your hands are bloody cold."

"Then warm them up," Louis challenged.

Instead of pressing Louis' hands to Harry's heat, Harry rubbed them between his own, blowing hot air on them and kissing each knuckle. Louis sighed beneath Harry, melting into the sheets like hot chocolate. Harry grabbed Louis' delicate wrists and pressed them to the mattress just above his head. Louis was pinned down, Harry in full control of his body. Harry hovered above Louis and scanned his eyes up and down his body, contemplating on where to put his mouth first.

Harry decided right then and there that he would spend a million lifetimes trying to please Louis whether it would be by making him laugh so much he would snort or make him come so hard he would blank out.

Louis blushed, red all the way down to his chest from Harry's unwavering stare.  _He was so lovely._ Harry skimmed his lips on Louis' burning torso, his long fingers still wrapped around Louis' wrists.

"Tell me what you want," Harry mumbled, his open lips kissing Louis' happy trail. "What you  _need_."

Louis blew hot air out of his lips, his stomach ballooning out with his breaths. He closed his eyes shut, frustrated with himself. He tugged on Harry's hold, cursing under his breath. Concern flashed across his eyes and Harry immediately released his tight grip on Louis' wrists.

"Sorry," Harry fumbled with the words. He felt like he was eight years old again and his mum had caught him red-handed with his hand shoved in the forbidden cookie jar. "Am I hurting you? Do you want me to stop?"

"No," Louis said firmly. His eyes softened when he saw the hesitant expression on Harry's face. A touch gentler, he explained, "Keep going. It's just...you're so bloody hot and I'm so turned on right now I can't even think straight."

Harry visibly relaxed his shoulders, the line of worry between his eyebrows disappearing. Louis cupped Harry's face, running his thumb along the pillow of Harry's bottom lip and then letting go. He placed his hands crisscrossed above his head, similar to his position before with a smirk teasing on his face.

"Keep your hands there," Harry commanded.

Harry was confident again when he pulled down Louis' jeans and pants in one swift movement.

"Wow, Styles," Louis nodded along to his own whispered words, his eyes sparkling in interest. "I'm impressed."

"There's more where that came from," Harry teased.

It was not something Harry thought they would do, their usual back-and-forth playful banter, in bed. It was a pleasant surprise and it made Harry feel more comfortable and less on the verge of dying. It reminded Harry that this was Louis who he was doing this with and not some drunken stranger he met at a gritty pub.

Harry nosed along Louis' inner thighs, Louis' cock lying thick and half-hard on his navel. One of his thumbs dipped into the hollow of Louis' hip bone, rubbing slow circles there and making Louis melt in Harry's embrace.

"What do you want me to do?" Harry asked in a low, husky voice.

Louis stared at Harry the whole time, his lower lip slipping into his mouth for a beat.

"Want your mouth..." Louis sighed. "On me."

Harry mulled over the idea of making Louis beg for him, but he kept that thought in the back of his mind for future purposes. He didn't think twice that he was already thinking of a next time with Louis. He wanted to do  _everything_  with Louis.

"Yeah, okay," Harry agreed, running his hands on the inside of Louis' fuzzy thighs.

Harry kissed Louis' hip bone, shifting lower so that he could get a better angle. He gripped Louis' cock in his hand firmly, the girth widening as Louis came to his full hardness with just one touch. Harry snickered, pulling down the foreskin and playing with Louis' cock for a bit.

"Gonna suck you off now."

Louis didn't have time to reply because Harry swallowed him whole. He let out a little hiccuped gasp and Harry would laugh but his mouth was full,  _really full_ , his lips stretching so much at the corners that it stung a bit. His cock tasted like skin and it was hot on Harry's tongue, a big vein pulsing on the underside. Harry felt like he was starving for it and he wanted nothing more than to press his nose against Louis' navel and feel Louis down his throat.

Louis moaned, Harry's mouth warm and hot and tight like a vice. Harry's tongue swirled around Louis' head, licking up Louis' hard shaft and swiping across his salty slit. Louis tasted delicious, making Harry's head swirl like a whirring cotton candy machine.

Harry bobbed his head to the rhythm of Louis' staccato heartbeat. He pulled off with a wet pop, noticing Louis' hands lowering down to his stomach. He batted Louis' hands away, resuming his work of sucking him dry.

"Keep your hands up for me," Harry mumbled around Louis' cock. It only served to send vibrations from his vocal chords onto Louis' cock, Louis shuddering out a shaky breath. "That's a good boy."

Harry hollowed out his cheeks and spat on Louis' cock, smirking when one of Louis' hands gripped his other wrist.

"Don't push it," Louis groaned belatedly.

Harry smiled around Louis' cock. He gripped the base and tongued around the head before trying to deepthroat, getting used to the aching feeling in his jaw. He hollowed in his cheeks and sucked even further until he felt Louis' cock nudging the entrance of his throat. He wanted to gag but held it in, wanting to make Louis feel good. Louis jerked up his hips without his self-control and moaned softly, his pretty pink lips parting open. Harry groaned at the sight of him, at Louis arching for him.

Without realizing it, Louis touched Harry's hair, which was damp like he had recently taken a shower. Strands of curls twisted between the gaps of Louis' fingers. Harry moaned louder, forgetting how good it felt when someone gripped his hair during a blowjob. It was as if they were in control even though Harry's mouth would be working them close to an orgasm.

Louis must have taken Harry's moan for a discomfortable one because he pulled his hand away as if he was burned by a hot kettle. Harry pulled off, his lips glistening with spit and pre-come.

"You can touch me," Harry assured. He caressed Louis' thigh with his free hand, gripping the skin with his trimmed fingernails. "I like it."

"Are you sure?" Louis asked  _because_   _of fucking course he was a sweetheart in bed._

Harry hummed in affirmation, gripping the base of Louis' cock and swirling his tongue around the wet head. He sucked on the bulb, making these obscene and wet slurping noises. It sounded way better than any porno Louis jacked off to. Harry sucked more of Louis inside, sliding his tongue along Louis' thick length, occasionally pulling off to kiss his balls and cup them. When he started to deepthroat again, Louis' legs trembled under Harry's hands. Louis was shaking so badly Harry had to pull off and ask him what was wrong.

"Nothing," Louis whined brokenly. "I'm about to come and I don't want to just yet. Not like this."

"I'll let you come on my face if you want," Harry said through sinful, smiling lips.

Harry jerked Louis off with fast tugs, blurts of pre-come spilling over his fist. He licked away the clear liquid and swallowed around Louis' swollen cock, the wet tip nudging his throat open.

"Jesus, H," Louis groaned. "You're just making this harder for me."

"That's what he said," Harry laughed. He jerked Louis faster, raising his eyebrows up to his hairline and calmly saying, "I mean, I'm against objectifying men and women, but I think it's appropriate when we're having a fun time in bed—"

"Fucking hell, Harry," Louis moaned.

Louis pushed himself up into a sitting position, causing Harry's hand to slip off Louis' cock and jerk the air instead.

"Did I do something wrong?" Harry asked, his eyebrows pinching together in confusion.

Louis pulled Harry up by the wrists, kissing him deep and warm. He clutched Harry's shoulders for support, digging his bitten-down nails into Harry's milky skin.

"No," Louis hummed, pressing their foreheads together. "Do you want the honors to fuck me or do you want me to fuck you?"

"I want to feel you inside me," Harry whispered back.

Louis looked into Harry's big glossy eyes. They were blurry and filled with lust, so Louis nodded yes and kissed Harry once more.

"Here. You're like—You're too..." Harry curled his hand under the swell of Louis' arse, his thumbs dipping into Louis' crease and hauling him that much closer. "Good.  _Better,_ I mean."

Louis was hyperaware of where Harry's hands were, one between his arsecheeks and the other on his knee, making its way in a crawl up his thigh. It was unbearably and inexplicably hot.

Louis pulled away and gave the needy lips in front of him a tap, pushing Harry to lie down. Harry settled on his back, looking over to see Louis shuffling through the top drawer to look for a bottle of lube and a strip of condom. Suddenly, Louis stopped his movements, his back stiffening and his shoulders tensing.

"Is something wrong?" Harry asked warily, nervous for no reason.

"Nope." Louis smiled over his shoulder. He grabbed the bottle of lube and a packaged condom, presenting them to Harry like a gift. "Everything's all good, sweetheart."

Harry preened at the term of endearment, giggling when Louis crawled on top of him and nuzzled his face into Harry's neck.

"I like when you laugh in bed," Louis confessed, his lips pressing to Harry's neck.

"Why?"

Louis nipped Harry's skin, working on a lovely bruise underneath his jaw.

"Because it makes me think I'm doing something right."

Louis' teeth caught on Harry's skin and he ran his tongue over the reddening skin. Harry swallowed hard, looking up at the ceiling, the curves of his mouth tilting up. He put both hands on Louis' body. His hand was warm and large, covering the whole breadth of Louis' back. One of his palms slid up Louis' tingling spine. When he thumbed over Louis' nipples, Louis' hips shuddered forward involuntarily with blood rushing to his cock.

"Oh, trust me, you're doing everything right."

Louis looked at Harry then, his sweaty fringe falling messily in front of his eyes.

"Yeah?"

Harry nodded, pushing Louis' hair out of his eyes. He wanted to see those baby blues for the whole night to make sure that this was real, that this was actually happening, that it wasn't a dream like the previous ones. He would never tell Louis that he had wet dreams about him. Louis' ego was already big enough.

"Yeah.  _Yes_."

Louis pushed himself on his heels with his feet planted firmly on the mattress. He hunched over Harry, aware that his thighs were still badly shaking, so turned on that he felt lightheaded. He roamed his hands over Harry's skin, Harry's legs spreading open for him in a silent invitation. He clicked open the small bottle of lube and squeezed out a dollop, warming up the lube by rubbing it between his fingers. Harry watched Louis from below, his eyes dark and his eyelashes blinking slow.

Louis pressed his lips to Harry's, distracting him for the first finger. He pushed in slowly, knowing Harry needed to adjust to the burning intrusion. Harry gasped into Louis' mouth when Louis pushed inside past his second knuckle, Louis darting his tongue inside Harry's panting mouth. They kissed feverishly, their lips swollen and red. Louis pushed another finger inside when he sensed Harry's body was relaxing and sinking into the mattress.

They continued to kiss passionately some more and Louis thought he wouldn't mind if this was all they ended up doing tonight. Kissing Harry was as exciting and as new as the day he first kissed his primary school crush. Harry's lips were soft and plush, contrary to Louis' chapped and thin ones. But then Louis could not ignore the obvious want in Harry's eyes, the way Harry was so tight around Louis' digits that it was like sucking them back inside for every press.

When Harry moaned he was ready, Louis pulled all of his three fingers out, Harry whimpering at the loss of contact. Louis felt his hands shake when he rolled the condom down his length, his chest puffing in and out. He couldn't believe someone as beautiful and as intelligent as Harry wanted him even if it was just physical. He thought he wasn't as brave or as stunning as Harry, that he didn't deserve someone as charming as him. He was insecure and nervous and having Harry writhe beneath him felt like an impossible dream. He didn't know what he did in his past lifetime to have the privilege to kiss and touch and hold him like this.

The first time Louis pressed in, everything fell silent. It seemed as though time stood still and all Louis could feel was the burning heat of Harry's gaze and the tightness of his hole. Louis pushed inside until he bottomed out, his balls nestled snugly against Harry's arse. He hoisted his weight above Harry using his arms, his fringe falling over his eyes again. He was grateful that Harry had to get used to the tight stretch because it gave him an excuse to calm down. It was all too much and yet not enough.

Harry leaned in and brushed their lips together, his lower lip quivering from the slight hiccups huffing out of his mouth.

"You okay?" Louis asked for good measure, running light fingertips underneath Harry's clenching jawline.

"Yeah. You're just thick," Harry replied, his eyebrows furrowing together and his mouth parting open in a rapt breath.

Louis started thrusting his hips in slow beats at a time, careful not to hurt Harry. He focused on making it good for him and forgot about his own insecurities; about the pudge on his tummy compared to Harry's flat, toned stomach, about the light hair that speckled his chest where Harry was all smooth, milky skin.

Louis started pushing into Harry's velvet heat faster and deeper, Harry's mouth falling open in stuttering breaths. Harry was so, so tight it was making it harder for Louis to breathe. Louis kept one hand pressed to the mattress, the other traveling down to grip Harry's cock. His small hand barely wrapped around the hard girth, Harry's shiny pink head wet with pre-come.

In the midst of catching his breath, Louis took Harry's mouth by force, his red-brown beard rough against Harry's soft skin. A faint moan escaped past Harry's lips when Louis' scruff left red angry marks, burning from the heat of his touch, leaving Harry fish-mouthing when Louis took his mouth away unfairly. Louis peppered Harry in kisses along his jawline and across the soft flesh of his ear. With a guttural grunt, Louis jerked Harry close with powerful thrusts, consuming him in a whirlwind of white-hot pleasure.

Harry gasped, "Uh, uh, uh's," when Louis pulled Harry's legs over his shoulders, deepening his thrusts. Louis' hands wrapped firmly around Harry's legs, Harry's toes curling in the air. Sparks of red appeared at the back of Harry's eyelids, his hole clenching tight around Louis' length when he felt every inch of his body submit to Louis. Harry knew he was already close to the edge by the sound of his raw moans.

Louis hunched over and hit it _just right_ , Harry's thighs clenching on either side of Louis' head.

"Please, fuck, Louis,  _baby_ , just, please—"

The next time Louis fucked into Harry's tight body, he went in deeper, wrenching a guttural cry out of Harry's sore throat. Harry felt himself opening up, pulling Louis in, leaving them both breathless. Harry was bigger than Louis in size but Louis felt  _huge_  buried deep inside of him.

"Shit, babe, you feel so good. Tell me when you're gonna— _ungh_."

Harry clenched down when Louis pressed his thumbs into Harry's nipples. Louis was trying to go slow and deep now, but it didn't last long, his thrusts getting short and sloppy.

"Fuck, Harry, sweetheart," Louis panted. "God, just, you look so good like this."

Sweat dripped down the line of Louis' upturned, button nose and landed on Harry's cheek. Harry couldn't do more than to hold on tight as Louis uncoordinatedly dicked inside hard and fast.

"Please," Harry whined brokenly, sounding overcome. "Please, fuck, I can't believe you're inside of me. Feels so good, 'm gonna come—Gonna..."

Harry clenched impossibly tighter around Louis, squeezing his eyes shut and his body spasming for a moment. It hit Harry first and all at once, his orgasm startled out of him, crackling all throughout his body like a thunder bolt. His stomach ballooned when he came, his cock untouched and spilling hot, painting Louis' chest white unexpectedly. He clamped down around Louis' cock inside him.

Louis gritted out, "You're so fucking gorgeous when you come, love," and followed immediately thereafter, his heartbeat pulsating in his cock.

Underneath him, Harry felt Louis' body shudder and the sob against his neck where Louis hid his face, his arsehole feeling warm from Louis filling up the condom. Harry shivered involuntarily at the thought that if Louis had fucked him bareback, he would have felt Louis' come leaking out of his tight arse.

 _Next time_ , Harry thought foolishly.

Louis held himself there, riding Harry through it with slowing thrusts until his prick softened. He wanted to stay inside Harry forever, but the unrelenting pressure was becoming unbearable, bridging towards painful. Harry whimpered when Louis pulled out, Louis mumbling an apology and kissing the corner of Harry's mouth. Louis tied the filled condom and discarded it in the wastebasket underneath the bed, collapsing on top of Harry with a satisfied groan.

Harry's arse throbbed halfway up his back. His thighs were sore and trembling. He was still trying to catch his shaky breath. Louis gathered Harry into his arms and kissed his damp neck and blushed cheek.

**TO BE CONTINUED...**


	13. I Don't Need My Love, You Can Take It

* * *

**CONTINUED**  
"Ugh," Harry groaned from Louis' heavy weight pressed on top of him, Louis' chest sticky and sweaty. "Do you mind?"

Harry frowned, petting Louis' head roughly to get him off.

"Mmm," Louis hummed. "'M too comfortable."

Harry's features softened at Louis' sleepy and lazy reply, his heart melting. He wrapped an arm around Louis, kissing him sweetly on the temple. Fingertips fluttered across Louis' arm, raising his skin in goosebumps. Harry continued kissing Louis on his forehead, his cheeks, his lips, his chin, everywhere. He couldn't get enough of touching him. He wanted to make up for lost time.

"Didn't peg you as the type to be so lovely after sex," Louis mused.

"Why's that?" Harry asked, pecking him on the nose, Louis scrunching it in response.

"I don't know. I thought you would be wired out. Was it not good enough?" Louis asked carefully, a little insecure.

Louis lifted his head, opening one eye in question. Even though he deserved an Oscar for his acting skills at keeping his voice steady, Harry knew Louis was doubting himself. Harry kissed the corner of Louis' mouth, couldn't help the smile that took up most of his face.

"You were great, love. I just like kissing your ugly mug," Harry said happily.

"Oi!"

Louis frowned, swatting Harry on the shoulder meanly. Harry's cackles filled the room in bright light. His laughter touched the cracks and crevices, lighting up every spot even in the darkest corners. It filled Louis' heart with joy, made him content and relax, made his toes curl between the bed sheets. Louis cradled Harry's face in the palm of his hand, openly staring at Harry. No more were the days where he had to sneak glances to check him out, Harry was readily presenting himself for Louis to admire and discover and explore.

"To be fair, I'd have wet dreams about you all the time. I would wake up with a boner and I had to jerk off with you sleeping next to me," Harry confessed, his eyes twinkling with unsung laughter.

"Oi!" Louis repeated, pleasantly surprised. He pinched Harry's cheek, his voice slow and sweet like honey. "You filthy boy. Where have you been all my life?"

Harry's face fell. He quieted, darting his eyes everywhere else except at Louis. Louis lifted Harry's chin with the tip of his finger, his gentle voice an inquiring tone.

"What is it, sweetheart? Did I say something wrong?"

Louis cocked his head to the side, no sign of amusement present. Harry bit the corner of his mouth.

"I've been here, Lou. All this time. Waiting."

Louis swallowed visibly, blowing hot air out of his kissed-bitten lips. A pretty pink dusted over his high cheekbones, his eyes soft and so, so blue. Harry could write endless poetry or paint tenerife seas over the color of Louis' eyes. Louis thumbed Harry's cheek, his smile small but still there.

"I'm sorry it took me so long. I just got stuck."

Harry could cry honestly. Instead, he wiped at his dry eyes and tugged Louis closer, kissing him with so much force he felt himself go lightheaded with it. Louis brought out the best of Harry. He unraveled all the parts within Harry, the good and the bad, and Harry felt like he was exposed out into the open for Louis to pick at and judge. Harry felt braver, stronger and more confident around him.

Harry's body seemed drugged from Louis' presence. His eyelids weighed closed as he moved near like a man in a hurricane, nowhere to go but muster bravery in the eye, compelled to touch Louis' lips with his own. Upon rediscovering him, their shallow breathing became one as Harry pried open Louis' mouth with his tongue, licking inside. Harry's tongue was so clever with just enough bite to have Louis gasping. And then in a ragged beat of his heart, Harry melted in Louis' embrace. Harry clutched Louis' body to his, wanting the world to disappear and spend hours upon hours mapping out Louis' body with his tongue, touching parts of him that he had left untouched.

Harry swore he would give up everything for Louis. All Louis had to do was ask.

"If I could, I'd go back in time to our first date."

"Why?" Louis asked, the vulnerability swimming in his eyes all too clearly.

"So I can do it all over again. So I would learn not to give up on you."

"But I was a prick! You were so lovely. I was the one—"

"No, Lou," Harry interrupted him before Louis could belittle himself. He pressed his lips to Louis' softly, quieting the other boy. "Maybe it would have gone differently if I tried harder. Maybe over dinner we could have connected."

"It doesn't matter." Louis pulled away, Harry following Louis' lips and making an unhappy sound at the back of his throat. He carded his fingers through Harry's messy, shiny tresses. "'Cause I have you now."

 _'Cause I have you now_ , Harry repeated dopily in his head.

All that mattered now was that Harry finally got his boy.

After a quiet moment, Harry whispered, "I think they planned this."

"What? Us? No," Louis replied firmly.

Louis rolled over in bed and pressed his face to the cool pillow, watching Harry watch him. He stretched his toes, his body always feeling boneless after a good fuck though Harry was more than just a _good fuck_.

"They've tried that once before and we all know how that worked out."

"I kinda get it now."

"When they set us up?"

"Yeah. I never understood it before, but now that I know you better, I can see what Zayn was thinking. You have a lot in common with him," Harry whispered in the dark.

Harry reached out and tugged Louis' earlobe, Louis smiling at the small affection. Whether it was a touch or a caress, Harry's fingertips seared heat into Louis' skin, Louis craving for more afterwards. Louis felt helpless and needy for it as if Harry was making him beg for more. He caught Harry's wrist before he pulled back and laced their fingers together.

"What? Zayn?"

"You'd think it'd be Liam, but it's him you remind me more of. He was just so fun and easygoing, you know?"

The left side of Louis' lip quirked higher than the right. Louis pressed a kiss to the underside of Harry's wrist, smiling against the frail skin and pulling away. His eyes were alight and sparkling with mischief. Harry knew that look like the back of his hand, always the victim whenever it came to Louis' pranks. Louis leaned in and cupped both of Harry's cheeks in his hands, kissing him deeply. His mouth was warm and wet, Harry opening his own and pulling on Louis' bottom lip. Louis kissed him one last time, his thumbs pressing on the damp cushion of Harry's lip.

"You're so gorgeous, Lou," Harry mumbled.

Louis felt his cheeks flush with pleasure, flattered and embarrassed in equal measure. For once, he couldn't think of anything to say, not even a snarky comment to reply, and caught Harry's mouth again for another kiss instead, this one so soft and slow it had Louis mewling into Harry's mouth. Harry broke away to gaze hungrily at Louis, his eyes drinking him in from head to toe.

"So gorgeous," Harry repeated, grazing his fingertips across Louis' slightly hairy chest.

Louis' mouth went dry and he was so embarrassed his eyes felt wet. He let out a nervous little laugh at being watched under so much scrutiny, his heart in his throat. After a moment, he cleared his throat and raised his eyebrows suggestively.

"I have a surprise."

"What?" Harry asked, finding himself to be excited like Louis if not more.

Harry was never a part of Louis' devilish plans and it felt so good to finally be on his side. He felt like a winner, a champion of some sorts as if Louis approved of him and Harry had won at life. Well, Harry just had Louis come inside of him a few minutes ago so he might as well call himself a winner for life.

"Something I found earlier.  _Contraband_."

Louis rolled over on his side of the bed and opened the bedside drawer, pulling out something he then hid from Harry. He unclasped his hands around the object, revealing his surprise. It was a small bag of weed.

"Oh my God," Harry gasped. "No."

"What do you mean  _no?"_ Louis squinted his eyes almost all the way shut.

"We can't. Isabella is asleep and—"

"Exactly! She's asleep! C'mon, it will help us stay off glaucoma," Louis suggested, his quick-as-a-fox wit impressing Harry.

Still, Harry stayed put.

"No."

"C'mon," Louis urged in a whine.

"No. Absolutely not." Harry shook his head defiantly. He laughed, "We cannot smoke that."

Louis cocked his head, scrunching his lips to the side in thought. Harry caught onto Louis' wide smile, the dimple a crater on his cheek, his eyes flashing in realization and his mouth flopping open. They didn't have to smoke it to have a good time. After all, Harry was an up-and-coming restaurant chef.

Harry gave in. It only took one shared look and both boys raced to the kitchen, giggling all the way down the stairs. Harry poured milk, sugar, brownie mix and melted chocolate into a large bowl. He stirred the ingredients for a while and handed the bowl over to Louis when he was done. Louis cracked two eggs on the edge of the bowl, dripping the egg whites and yolks inside.

"Can you whisk that for me, babe?" Harry asked as he preheated the oven to 350 degrees.

Louis dumbly stared at the bowl, his body motionless.

"How do you whisk again?" Louis asked, confusion striking his face.

Harry laughed, knowing it was just a tactic to get him to do all the work, but he decided to humor Louis. He pressed up behind Louis, his large hand enveloping Louis' on the whisk. He started flicking their hands together in a circular motion, Louis humming in comprehension as they whisked the brownie mixture together.

Louis lifted the whisk up to his face, his pink tongue darting out to taste the chocolate. Harry giggled next to him, Louis teetering on the tips of his toes to steal a sweet kiss. Harry loved that Louis had to reach up to get what he wanted. He smiled with closed lips, wrinkling his nose at the chocolate that dripped off his lips and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

They buttered a pan and spread the goopy chocolatey mess evenly across the container. Once that was done, they stuffed the brownie covered pan into the oven and shut the oven door closed. As they waited for the brownies to bake, Louis sat on top of the kitchen island, sharing sugary kisses with Harry and sucking on Harry's chocolate-tasting tongue. When Louis tried to let go, Harry caught their mouths together again, kissing Louis slow and sweet. The oven beeped, promptly interrupting their hot makeout session.

"Lou," Harry mumbled against Louis' mouth, Louis' teeth snagging on Harry's bottom lip.

"Hmm?" Louis hummed, pressing three kisses in rapid succession to Harry's puckered lips, leaving Harry a laughing mess.

"I think the brownies are done."

"Just one more minute."

Harry laughed, bright and unabashed. One minute turned into five more minutes and Louis had to hurry up to pull the brownies out of the oven so they wouldn't burn. Once they let the weed brownies cool down, they frosted them with more chocolate. Harry picked up a brownie, feeding the treat to Louis as he made exaggerated moaning sounds, rubbing the small pouch of his stomach.

They stacked all of the brownies on a platter, sliding on the hardwood floor on socked feet towards the bedroom. Louis skidded to a stop near a small table, leaving some brownies on a plate there.

"Why are you leaving them?"

"I'm just taking a few. We're not gonna eat all of these."

Louis took their first platter and chased Harry out of the living room, slapping Harry's arse with his foot and pinching it afterwards for good measure. Harry yelped, laughing and running away like he was five years old again. Louis flushed warm all over. Harry made him feel like a teenager again.

Louis let his eyes linger on Harry's backside. Harry was dressed in only tiny black boxer-briefs that clung to his swaying hips.  _He looked so gorgeous._

They climbed into bed and tipped brownies, munching into them and moaning at the same time. Harry grinned at Louis, his two front bunny teeth coated in chocolate. Louis laughed so hard he fell over the bed, Harry guffawing a loud laugh that echoed all around the room. Louis felt dizzy with affection.

Thirty minutes later  _(that felt like hours)_  passed by and both boys were sprawled on the floor with Louis' head cradled in Harry's lap. Louis and Harry were attuned to the television screen playing The Wiggles. Vibrant colors were on display, the brightly-colored men dancing along to floating shapes and flying cars.

"You know they were five Wiggles originally? I was the fifth Wiggle."

Louis pointed proudly at himself. Harry wanted to muffle his hyena laugh by pressing the back of his hand over his mouth, but when he tried to do so, Louis tugged Harry's hand away, wanting to see his smiling, naked face. Harry hid his smile on Louis' shoulder anyways.

They continued to watch The Wiggles, the children's show playing fast music that could seriously be played at a gritty gay club.

"This is inappropriate for children," Harry commented, wide-eyed and shocked.

One hour later and Louis and Harry were dancing free-spiritedly, Louis doing the worm with his arms as he exclaimed, "I'm wiggling. Ha! Get it?"

"Oh! That's so cool. How do you do that?" Harry mimicked Louis' dance moves, his arms flapping wildly like an uncoordinated bird's wings. "Am I doing this right?"

Louis smiled at Harry, clapping his hands excitedly and encouraging him on. If there was one word to describe Louis it would be  _supportive_. Or  _lovely_. Or  _gorgeous_. It was hard to suffice all that Louis was in one word.  _Love_ , maybe that one fit him the best.

After their high mellowed out, Louis and Harry were draped over each other, their limbs tangled together in a mess. Harry's head laid on Louis' lap, Louis' fingers carding through Harry's sticky curls where Louis had chucked a spoonful of chocolate at him before. A cartoon moon and sun flickered across the television screen with The Wiggles singing a soft lullaby in the background.

"So the moon and the sun are friends?" Louis murmured from above Harry, his hand feeling heavy.

"They're  _best_  friends," Harry replied, his voice sleepy and soft.

Louis' hands felt heavier and heavier until they fell limp on top of Harry's head. Harry shuffled and turned his face up, squinting at Louis in the dark.

"Lou?"

When no answer came, Harry groaned and stretched, his bones heavy. Harry heaved himself up and pulled Louis along with him.

"I know you're faking, Lou. C'mon," Harry bemoaned tiredly, Louis' heavy body carrying down their combined weight.

Harry huffed through his nose haughtily and pulled Louis into his arms, bending down and wrapping an arm under Louis' legs to carry him bridal style.

Harry placed Louis on his side of the bed gently, pulling back the duvet and bed sheets with half-closed eyes. He made grabby hands at Louis and picked him up only to place him down on the mattress again, Louis' body bouncing a little. He jumped over Louis' slumped form and landed on his face onto the bed.

With a low groan, Harry pulled the bed sheets over them, the silk feeling cool against his burning skin. Harry wrapped an arm around Louis, pulling him close. Louis sighed in his sleep, shifting to accommodate the warm body next to him.

Harry kissed Louis softly, remnants of chocolate drizzle catching in the light at the corner of Louis' mouth. He licked it away and settled his head on the center of Louis' chest. He held him close until he heard Louis' deep, even breaths and felt the steady rhythm of Louis' heartbeat under his palm. He wasn't planning on letting go of Louis anytime soon.

Harry felt so much love and adoration for Louis that he could barely withhold it. It was as if his heart was ready to burst with the affection he contained for Louis day in and day out. He didn't want this to be a one-night stand. He swallowed past a hard lump lodged inside his throat, somberly thinking,  _I want so much more with you._

Harry fell asleep staring at Louis' slackened worry-free face.


	14. You Rip Out All I Have, Just To Say That You've Won

* * *

The doorbell chimed, promptly waking up Louis and Harry from their peaceful dreams. They shot up from bed abruptly, their hair mussed from their second go last night after they woke up from their high. Harry remembered it all too clearly.

( _"Fuck, you smell so good. How do you smell so good all the time?"_ Harry asked, his face shoved into Louis' armpit.

Harry licked a fat, broad stripe up Louis' golden skin, Louis squirming and letting out a breathless laugh.

 _"Tickles, Haz,"_ Louis murmured, huffing quiet, simmering snickers.

Harry touched, nipped and tasted until Louis was writhing below him. He found Louis' weakest area, dipping his tongue inside Louis' tight pink hole while Louis clenched all around him. He lathed his tongue over the sensitive ring of circle, Louis crying out and shooting white ribbons of come onto the already messy bed sheets. By the time he let up, Louis' clenching hole was wet and warm from Harry's tongue and Harry looked obscene with his blotchy cheeks and his lips and chin covered in spit. Louis just had to touch their mouths together again with his hand cupped on Harry's jaw, felt like he was going to burst into flames just from the sight of him.

Harry smiled wickedly, licking Louis nice and clean and then kissed him on the mouth afterwards, the taste of Louis strong on his tongue. He didn't care if he tasted musky or that he was lying in the damp spot on the sheets. All he cared about was that his boy was straddling him, lazily kissing him until the morning sun rose up.

Louis played with Harry's nipples, even the two smaller nubs underneath, until they were nice and puffy and Harry couldn't take it anymore. Harry was so hot and so bloody hard, rutting his hips into Louis' thigh because he couldn't help himself. He had to bury his face into Louis' neck to keep himself from saying something embarrassing like,  _"I like it when you play with my nipples,"_  or worse,  _"Put your mouth on them again."_

 _"Fuck, you've got me so—"_ Harry said then cut himself off, too mortified to hear himself say it out loud, hear how broken his voice was, how desperate he was for it. For  _Louis_.

 _He must think I'm so fucking needy,_  Harry thought embarrassedly, more turned on than he had ever been in his entire life.

But Louis didn't make fun of Harry. Instead, he was right there with him, shushing Harry with his lips before Harry could so much as apologize and pressed his lips to the shell of Harry's ear, close enough that his breath tickled Harry's sensitive skin.

 _"Wet?"_ Louis stated rather than asked. Harry sucked in a sharp intake of breath, feeling like he was going to come just from a few dirty, whispered words. Louis' hand slid down Harry's front, palming the thick patch of curls at the base.  _"I got you soaking wet, yeah?"_

Harry made a soft mewling sound, helpless to do anything but thrust into Louis' thigh once more, not doing him any favors.

_"Lou—"_

_"God, I bet you are,"_  Louis mused, his eyes dark in the low light of the bedroom. He cupped his hand over Harry's cock, pressing down until Harry's cock was lying flat on his heaving stomach, Louis' palm damp because Harry was so drippy.  _"Fuck, I bet Ed can't make you this wet, can he? You're soaked only for me. Isn't that right, sweetheart?"_

Harry nodded viciously, blushing fiercely, holding Louis tighter when he felt he was drowning in pleasure.

_"Ungh...Lou...please—"_

Louis nosed along the length of Harry's throbbing cock, closing his mouth over the wet head, his eyes widening in surprise when he received a pulse of pre-come on his tongue. Harry bit on his bottom lip harshly, trying almighty not to buck up his hips into Louis' mouth.

 _"Say it again,"_ Louis breathed, his breath hot against Harry's skin.

 _"What?"_ Harry questioned, grinding his hips roughly against Louis' thigh for the third time in a row, burning hot on his skin.

_(Louis might as well punish Harry for being so impatient. The thought turned dirty very, very quickly._

_"Say_ please _again. Tell me you want it."_

There was no need to say it again. Harry's quiet moans turned into gasps, his cheeks were flushed, his forehead was sweating, his breathing became shallower and his sweating body vibrated was riddled want. Even his cock was a telltale sign of how bad he wanted it, leaving a hot line of pre-come on one of his laurel leaves.

 _"Please,"_  Harry begged anyways, swallowing hard after he said it. He threaded his fingers through Louis' hair, cradling the back of his head in the most sweetest way Louis had ever been held.  _"Want you to fuck me."_

To his credit, Louis gave Harry what he wanted without making him ask for it again. He rolled them over in bed and pinned Harry's hands above his head, fucking Harry into the mattress deep and tender. When Harry's lungs started to feel like fire, he had to consciously remind himself to breathe. He gulped air fast,  _too fast,_ makinghis head spin and his body feeling dizzy to match. He couldn't think beyond Louis digging his blunt fingernails into his hips, so opposite to how he was fucking him so hard on the bed that Harry's head almost collided with the headboard. His mouth made sounds so sweet it made Louis bite down into Harry's sensitive skin, sucking until he knew it hurt and then kissed and licked over the same spot.

There was already so much heat building in the pit of Harry's stomach that it was like kindling a flame, making it grow wild. It only took a few minutes until Harry came onto his heaving stomach as Louis pumped thick inside of him. Louis followed thereafter, spilling hot into Harry's clenching hole without a condom, remnants of come trickling from between Harry's sore arse cheeks. Harry knew they shouldn't have fucked with a condom, but the thought of Louis coming into his arse, filling him up, marking him from the  _inside_ , was too good to pass up. Plus, he trusted Louis.

Louis held Harry until he came down, kissing all over his pink mottled cheeks. Harry kissed Louis on the lips sweetly, a warm feeling unfurling in his chest.

Afterwards, Louis cleaned Harry up using his tongue and tucked him protectively to his chest, both men sighing happily at the same time. Harry fell asleep with a sedated smile drawn across his face.)

"What? Who?"

Harry sat up groggily, rubbing his tired eyes. He looked over, watching amusedly as Louis picked up the baby monitor and pressed it to his cheek. Louis scratched his scalp, his eyes unfocused and bleak. He looked soft and bright bunny-eyed. His eyes were tinged red but otherwise clear. Pillow creases littered his pink cheeks and his lips were just as pink and pillowy soft. His hair was sticking out in odd directions with a little sprig of a cowlick standing at the back of his head. Harry thought he would never get to see this side of him. He felt privileged just by the view.

"Hello?"

"It's the baby monitor," Harry rasped.

"Where's the phone?"

Louis' hand shot out to pat the bed sheets to find the missing phone.

Harry slumped his shoulders, sniffling and mumbling, "I think it's the door."

"Oh, I'll get the door."

Louis kissed Harry's cheek and swung his legs over the bed. Harry smiled after him, getting up and finding a shirt to wear. Louis grabbed the closest item of clothing on the way, which happened to be his favorite black tank top with oversized armholes, and headed down the stairs. He reached the entrance and opened the front door, struggling to get the tank top over his head.

"Oh, good morning, Mr. Tomlinson," Eleanor said albeit a little too cheerfully. Her eyes roamed Louis' body shamelessly, her voice pitching high and sweet. "I hope this isn't too an inconvenient time for me to stop by."

"No, no," Louis' words came out muffled from under his tank top, his head popping out in the wrong hole. He rearranged his flimsy shirt and fixed her with a forceful smile. "This is perfect. Just give us one minute."

"Since it's warm out, I thought I could—"

Eleanor didn't get to finish her sentence because Louis slammed the door shut in her face. Louis jogged up the steps back to their bedroom, finding an empty bed and no Harry. He walked to Isabella's bedroom, popping his head inside.

"Hey, Eleanor's here."

Harry sat on the floor with Isabella in his lap. He hoisted her high in the air, bouncing her up and down and making a, "Wee!" sound with his mouth.

"What?  _Now?_  God, that lady has the worst timing in the world," Harry grumbled. He handed Isabella over to Louis, pulling down his tiny black-boxer briefs over his thighs. "Alright, you take Bella. I'll clean upstairs, you clean downstairs and get the illicit drugs!"

Louis jogged down the steps with Isabella inside the laundry basket covered in clothes. He picked up discarded articles of clothing off the banister from last night's adventure. Harry replaced their dried come splattered sheets with lavender-smelling white bed sheets. They didn't smell like Louis, but it would have to do for now.

Downstairs, Louis threw the whisk, cracked eggshells and small bowls into a large, dirty bowl and shoved them into the dishwasher. He grabbed the small bag of illegal drugs and contemplated where to hide it, deciding on eliminating the evidence. He stuffed the baggie of leftover weed into the kitchen grinder sink and turned it on. Harry sprayed two cans of Febreeze Air expertly in the air, bumping into Louis' front.

"Okay, okay. We didn't smoke it," Louis scolded without bite as he buttoned up the last two buttons of the crisp collared shirt he changed into.

"Yeah, I got a little carried away." Harry nodded, chucking the empty cans on the table.

"Where's Bella?" they both proclaimed simultaneously, no sign of their baby girl present.

Louis opened the door to the washroom and looked around worriedly, hearing a few bubbly giggles coming from the floor. He looked down to witness Isabella playing with the rumpled clothes inside the laundry basket. Louis made a firm  _tsk_  sound against the roof of his mouth and picked Isabella up. He kissed her cheek, Isabella gurgling contently.

A short while later, the adults were seated in the living room with Isabella babbling in Louis' arms and three hot cups of tea placed on top of the coffee table.

"You seem more settled in your roles," Eleanor mused as he clicked her pen, raising an inquisitive eyebrow.

"Yeah!" Harry replied happily. "We have learned a lot and so has Miss Bella. She's walking now."

"So how are you two getting along?" Eleanor hummed, twirling the pen in her manicured fingers. "Is there any tension? Are you troubled with internal friction?"

Louis hungrily licked his lips and stared up at the ceiling, the corners of his mouth lifting in a teasing smirk. He wiggled his arse on the couch. Subtlety was never his strongest suit.

"Internal friction?" Louis hummed conspiratorially.

"Us? No, we're good." Harry suppressed a wide dimples smile and looked over to Louis, his face warming up when Louis was already smiling at him softly. "Everything's all good, good, good."

"And have you thought about how you are gonna make this work? Or what your plans might be together?" Eleanor asked, her pen poised on her notepad, ready to scribble down their answers.

"We hadn't really gotten that far it's, um, still pretty new." Harry stared at Louis, the butterflies in his stomach threatening to spill out of his ribcage. "Some things just happened with no plan at all."

"Really? Because I kinda had a plan in mind," Louis said teasingly, reflexively squeezing Isabella gathered in his arms.

Harry wanted to kiss Louis right then and there. Up until now, Louis had driven him crazy, but now it was a different type of crazy. Ever since last night happened, Harry felt his movements lighter, he saw everything brighter. It just wasn't a  _good fuck_ , it  _meant_  something to Harry.

Especially after Harry had come down from his high, Louis fingered him open, their faces only a breath apart. Louis kissed along Harry's jawline while his fingers worked inside him. He kissed him until he felt dizzy with it, his fingers jabbing at Harry's prostate and making him ache for it. He treated him so good after Harry came, kissing along Harry's thighs and cleaning him up with his tongue. Harry had loved every minute of it.

Harry blinked back to reality, murmuring, "Really? Just never occurred to me that you had any interest in my plans."

"How could you not know that I wanted to plan with you?" Louis said with a fond smile, his eyes blinking slow.

"Maybe I'm not as an experienced planner as you," Harry contemplated in a bashful sort of way.

"Aw. You're a good planner," Louis praised, the tip of his tongue darting out to wet the corner of his mouth.

Eleanor looked between them, her expression bridging towards sarcastic irritation. She flicked her hand in the air, gesturing between the two of them.

"C'mon, people, you had sex. Huh?" Eleanor asked exasperatedly.

Louis and Harry stayed silent for a few moments. Harry looked away with blushing cheeks while Louis took a careful sip of tea, his face splitting into a smug smile.

Harry was the first one to break, his deep voice rumbling, "We have no intention of letting our personal lives affect our parenting, I promise."

"You gonna get married?"

"This happened, what? Six hours ago?" Louis asked incredulously, his curved eyebrows arching all the way up to his hairline.

"What if it doesn't work out? Where are you gonna sleep, Tommo? Are you gonna sleep in the garage?"

Louis shrugged carelessly, squinting his eyes at Eleanor. Eleanor shook her head from side to side, her voice rising high.

"Sex in the situation...it's like termites. It makes for a very unstable household," Eleanor grumbled, picking up her things and standing up, straightening out her tasteful suit. "You guys were supposed to be my easy case. I got nice coffee on the way here, I thought, "I'm gonna go deal with my easy case. Gonna make it like a little mini vacation. Yay!""

"Look, El—" Louis pitched in.

Eleanor interrupted Louis rudely, pinching the inner corners of her eyes for a beat.

"We have one more meeting scheduled and before then I want you to work out your personal issues whether you decide to get engaged or pretend that it never happened. I don't care. Just. Work. Your. Shit. Out. Okay?"

Eleanor flicked her hand in the air, pausing after every word for added emphasis.

"Okay." Harry nodded rapidly.

"Do you mind if I snag a brownie?" Eleanor pointed to the remainder of the weed brownies.

Louis motioned to Harry, gesturing wildly with his hands. Harry ran up to Eleanor, babbling, "Oh, God no! No, no, no, no." He swatted at the brownie in her hand, causing the brownie to fly across the room. "Really. I'm so sorry. It's just a bad batch and I'm a professional baker."

"No, it's okay," Eleanor said, frowning. "Your house, your food. Anyway. Sorry. I'm out of here. Thank you."

Harry apologized again, Eleanor interrupting him with a hand to his face.

"It's okay," Eleanor said with a tight grimace.

Eleanor looked at Harry warily and turned on her heel, disappearing around the hallway and shutting the front door behind herself. Harry blew his bangs out of his eyes, leaning with his hands pressed to the small table behind himself. Louis shrugged, Isabella sitting comfortably in his lap. Harry snagged a brownie and chewed into it, forgetting about the hallucinating drugs inside. Louis raised his eyebrows at him. It took all of two seconds for Harry to widen his eyes and spit the mushed brownie out.

Harry coughed out, "I forgot," and clutched one hand to his chest.

Louis smirked at Harry, grabbing the brownie from Harry's limp hand and biting into it. Harry shook his head, his mouth curving into a sly smile. Louis patted Harry's cheek fondly and walked away with Isabella tucked in his arms, Harry staring at his swaying arse.

"I know you're staring at my arse!" Louis called out over his shoulder.

Harry sighed, his hand still clutching his chest, all the while thinking  _I'm so screwed._

It was afternoon when Ben Winston called Louis to his office. The sun was sweeping over the horizon, the sky a light color of soft oranges and baby blues. Louis was perched on the monitor, his feet resting on a table. Josh had joined him, his headset still on from the London Lions game earlier that day.

"You're my last single friend," Josh bemoaned dramatically. "Without you, I have no link to the outside world."

Louis frowned at Josh and inspected his clean fingernails. They were bitten down to the quick. Louis needed to stop this bad habit of biting his nails out of nervous habit before it got increasingly worse.

"I don't know why we did it. We just...did it," Louis confessed.

"You know what marriage is like? Imagine a prison and then don't change anything."

"We're not married," Louis scoffed.

"You guys are raising a kid together. That's the most married you can get," Josh justified.

Josh ran a hand through his blonde locks, having recently dyed it. Louis hummed a popular Eminem tune under his breath, Josh laughing lightheartedly and giving Louis a quick shove on the chest.

"Wanker," Josh muttered.

Louis smiled at Josh, a soft smile taking place. The door opened then with Ben stepping out dressed in a clean suit and tapered by Chelsea heeled boots.  _Harry looked better in them, honestly._

"Tommo, a minute?" Ben gestured with a wave of his hand.

They held their meeting at the arena, walking across the span of the basketball court. Louis shoved his hands deep into his pockets, eyeing the empty seats and still be able to hear the silent cheers and the hoorah shouts of enthusiastic die-hard fans.

"So I gave you a nice, big, fat break and it didn't go so well. Should I learn my lesson with you or should I give you another shot?"

Louis puffed a wet laugh if a bit nervously and tamed down his disheveled hair. He gnawed on his lower lip, a flurry of excitement at a second chance zipping through a live wire just under his skin.

"Given a choice, I'd go with that one. The shot."

"Tommo, you've got it just about better than anybody else here. Sports isn't just about stats and memorizing plays. It's about insight, it's about feeling. You've got the talent, Tomlinson, but you're all over the place."

"I can be in one place," Louis reasoned, setting his hands on his hips.

"Can you? Can you be in Phoenix?" Ben stopped walking to face Louis, his serious expression that of a stern businessman.

Louis gaped at Ben—being so shell-shocked that couldn't breathe or move, lest have words come out of his parted mouth.

"A spot opened up. Directing for the Suns. They called, asked who I thought was right for the job. I'd like to tell them  _you_. Let me know."

Ben walked away on that final note, leaving Louis alone in the empty arena with his thoughts. Louis mulled the idea in his head, biting down on the inner flesh of his lower lip.

Louis had two options, really. He could either stay here and raise Isabella together with Harry the way Liam and Zayn envisioned and honor their wishes. Or he could move to Phoenix and land his dream job that he started working hard for since he was eighteen. The answer was plain and simple. Move to Phoenix to direct the Suns. Then how come Louis kept coming up with excuses, his heart aching at the thought of leaving Isabella, of leaving  _Harry?_ He didn't want to come to terms with his feelings  _(Louis didn't have a great experience with his emotions_ ) and so he pushed Ben's tempting offer to the back of his mind. Ben Winston was the devil.

Louis was planning on telling Harry. Of course he was going to tell him. He couldn't keep it a secret forever. However, he never expected it to come out the way it did.

*

The neighborhood was planning a block party filled with kiddie games, bounce houses, hot dogs, hamburgers and festivities. They made block parties at the start of every Autumn to celebrate a new beginning. Louis swallowed the words  _new beginning_  down his throat.  _How ironic._

Louis, Harry and Isabella were sprawled on a picnic blanket on the fresh grass while a caricature artist drew whiskers on their faces, painting them like clown felines. A paint brush smeared orange across Louis' cheek. Louis formed a claw with his hand, pretending to be a lion but appearing more like a disgruntled kitten. Harry giggled, nudging his nose on Louis' shoulder.

"If me at any age in my life could see me right now, he would kick my cat arse," Louis said consequentially.

"Tommo, I heard you lived around here."

Louis' coworker, Oli, loomed in front of them, carrying a red balloon and holding a little boy's hand who Louis presumed was his son.

"Oli! Hey!" Louis shook Oli's hand, smiling up at him.

"Sweet move landing Phoenix. We're gonna miss you around the arena," Oli congratulated Louis.

Harry looked at Louis confusedly, his smile freezing on his face. Louis shook his head, not daring to see the disappointing look displaying on Harry's face.  _He was a coward._ He waved off Oli's sincere congrats, his eyebrows pinching together.

"We're still talking about all that."

"Really?" Oli frowned. "'Cause Ben said it seemed like a pretty done deal."

"We're probably gonna be over at the band in a bit," Louis mumbled, his smile not quite reaching his eyes. He coughed awkwardly into his fist and thumbed over his shoulder, desperate to change the subject of the conversation. "Meet you over there."

Louis scrunched his lips to the side, clearly uncomfortable with the whole situation.

"Nice whiskers," Oli growled, walking away.

"What was that about?" Harry questioned suspiciously.

"Nothing. C'mon, let's go."

Louis dismissed Harry easily, walking away with Isabella wrapped in his arms. Harry stared at Louis' retreating back, a line of worry creasing his forehead. He swallowed around the hard lump that had formed in his throat and nodded at the caricature painter, sending him his thanks.

Harry stood up on wobbly feet and followed Louis to the endless rows of tables decked out in a variety of food. The rush of Oli's words left a bad taste in his mouth, Harry gripping his long hair and tugging on the ends harshly. The words  _Phoenix_  and  _pretty done deal_  bounced around inside his head, weighing him down with the weight of the world. Adrenaline quickly coursed through his veins like hot poison. Harry shook away the awful conclusions that were threatening to nip at him, continuing to follow Louis around the tablecloth covered table.

"C'mon, Lou. Out with it."

"It's just something Ben and I talked about the other day," Louis offered with a measly shrug, rocking back on his heels a little. "He put me up for a directing job."

"In Phoenix?" Harry raised his eyebrows.

"Mm-hmm. For the Suns. Running their whole crew for the season."

"You said no though, right?" Harry managed to choke out, his heart beating fiercely against his ribcage.

Louis picked up a paper plate, stacking hamburger buns on top. He hung his head low as if he was trying to make himself appear smaller or try to disappear from the face of the Earth. Harry searched for Louis' eyes. Louis never lied with his eyes. He was an open book for the whole world to read.

"Well," Louis drawled, taking more time to explain himself than he really needed. "I didn't want to be rude and just turn it down right on the spot."

"So why didn't you just tell me about it?"

"Because I didn't want it to be a thing." Louis discreetly muttered, "It's not like I can take it anyway."

"But you want to," Harry clarified.

"Of course I want to," Louis said with a scoff and an eye roll. "It's a huge opportunity."

"So you're thinking about it," Harry pressed further, unwilling to let this go.

Louis hesitated before answering with a stern, "No."

"No?" Harry pestered Louis.

"No. Not thinking about it."

"I don't understand why you didn't just mention it to me," Harry said with incredulity.

Harry and Louis shared everything together. They shared a house, they shared a bed,  _hell_ , they even shared a baby together. Secrets were one thing amongst them.

"Because I didn't want you to be upset which you obviously are," Louis replied in a flat tone.

"Why would I be upset if it's not even a possibility?"

Harry shrugged his shoulders up and down, still amazed at the fact that Louis was oddly distant from the conversation. He felt pings of anger spark through him at the realization. He felt a nauseous tug at the back of his throat as the tang of something sickly and metallic flooded his mouth. Even if Louis didn't leave, it still meant he was thinking about it, a constant possibility running through his head. Harry's eyebrows furrowed together, his entire body visibly tense. Anger thrummed through his veins in a hot coil of winded emotions.

Harry snatched the paper plate of food away from Louis' hands, gritting out, "You know what, Louis? Can we just stop with the food for one minute? Can you just tell me honestly...are you thinking about taking this job?"

Louis finally looked up at Harry, his eyes hard, his jaw clenched. Harry didn't like what he saw in Louis' eyes. Resolute. Distance. Regret. Regretting  _them_.

"Yeah, I'm thinking about it. It's something I've been working for, okay?" Louis justified. "I would've jumped at this opportunity before."

Harry nodded slowly, the corners of his lips pursuing downwards. "Before Bella and before me? I get it."

Harry made cooing noises at Isabella and grabbed her, taking her away from Louis' protective arms.

Louis deflated, the walls he so carefully built around himself tumbling down the moment Harry showed him what love felt like. It wasn't sleeping with strangers or having a good laugh, it was soft touches and intimate whispers in the dark. It was Harry cooking him breakfast every morning and giving Louis a few more hours in bed when he woke up to the shrill sounds of Isabella's crying. Love was when they fought and Harry still made Louis a cup of tea the way he liked. Milk first, no sugar. Love was Harry kissing down Louis' body and calling out for God when Louis touched him in all the right ways. Love was Harry Styles.

"Harry. Haz," Louis called after Harry helplessly.

Harry whirled around to Louis, his face void of any emotion. He wasn't going to show Louis how much he was hurting him.

"How was that gonna work out, Louis? Were we gonna go with you or were you gonna leave us?"

"I don't know," Louis admitted honestly.

Louis ran his hands through his hair, frustrated at himself. He was angry at Ben for offering him the job, he was angry at Harry for always being so goddamn sweet even when he didn't need to be, and he was especially angry with himself for falling in too deep, too fast.

"I never had to think for three people before, I bearly had to think for one. It's just a job offer," Louis defended lamely.

"No, it's not. It's exactly what you've been waiting for," Harry said in a harsh rasp, his eyes narrowing down to half-slits. "A clean-out."

"That's just not true."

"You never wanted to be here and after everything, after all of this, you still think of us as temporary."

"You think that I'm not in this?" Louis asked, disbelieving. He threw his hands in the air, irritated with everything. "I gave up my place, I gave up my motorcycle, I gave you money for your restaurant."

"I never asked you for money."

"I did it to make you happy!" Louis shouted. His cheeks were flushed with anger, his hair disheveled from where he carded his fingers through it. "I gave up everything to play this  _fucking_  part!"

The gasp Harry heard,  _how embarrassing_ , must have been his.

 _"Play this part?"_ Harry echoed emptily. His face scrunched like he had finished sucking on a sour lemon. Everything he built came tumbling down into rubble. He finally broke. His eyes were teary, red-rimmed and tired and his voice came out in a vulnerable whisper, wobbling, "That's what this is to you?"

"Well, we're living in their house, we're sleeping in their bed, we're raising their kid. We're acting like we're married but we're not," Louis argued.

"Have you been pretending with Bella?"

"No, I love Isabella!"

Harry pursued his lips, his eyes widening and watering.  It felt like he had been punched in the gut by the plot twist of a horror thriller movie; his favorite character had been the bad guy all along.  _How could I have been such an utter fool?_ _Did_ _he not care about me...at all?_

"So just me then," Harry said in a strangled voice.

Louis opened his mouth to protest, but no fighting words came out. He was speechless. He had said enough.

 _Ashes. Ashes. We all fall down like ashes._ The invisible ashes fluttered around Harry, disintegrating around his feet as hurt and humiliation engulfed him completely.

Harry walked away, holding Isabella tighter to his chest.

Harry yelled, "You should take the job, Tommo," without looking back.

 _Tommo_. Harry had stopped calling him that the moment Louis' lips touched his. Everybody called him Tommo, but Harry wasn't everybody. The name  _Louis_  was reserved to fall from Harry's lips only.

Louis meant to call out words,  _anything_  to bring Harry back. To hold his boy and never let go, but he just got...stuck.  _Again_. Harry had left Louis feeling numb. Louis' mouth went dry with the feeling, three damn words he never said to anybody but to his own mum and little sibling curling at the tip of his tongue.

It was ridiculous, really. Their whole situation was fucked up. Louis never asked for this. He never asked to raise a baby. He never asked to give up his prior life. He never asked to fall in love. Yet here he was. Doing all three things.

Harry stomped all the way to their house.  _His_  house. He walked into the living room and sat down on the sofa, hugging Isabella to his chest. Now that he was by himself with no prying eyes watching, he let himself finally feel. His throat closed up, his anxiety crawling back up. Hot tears streamed down his face, Harry furiously wiping at them away with his fist, but to no avail, they didn't let up. He tapped his foot on the tiled floor incessantly, his whole body feeling jittery and tense. A choked gasp escaped his mouth, Harry clamping his hand over his lips to silence his sobs.

After giving all of himself to Louis, he was leaving. For fuck's sake, Harry opened up to him in more ways than one and he  _still_  wasn't good enough because Louis was  _still_  leaving.

Harry sobbed uncontrollably, his chest heaving ragged breaths that burned his clogged throat. Isabella cried with him, her reddened, leaking face pressed against his chest. It was as if she knew that one of her daddies were leaving soon.

Louis broke their home.


	15. If You're Looking For Love, Know That Love Don't Live Here Anymore

* * *

**AUTUMN**  
Louis left after a week.

It had been gradual and therefore hurt even more. Louis packed up his things slowly one by one and pretty soon he was gone before he left. He stopped sleeping in Harry's bed altogether and slept downstairs. He stopped hanging out with Harry and Isabella even when they were supposed to have Family Time in the bathtub. The last thing he did was stopped drinking the Yorkshire tea Harry would prepare for him in the mornings. Somehow, that one hurt the most.

On the last day, Louis kissed Isabella good bye and nodded curtly at Harry, not even giving him a brief kiss or a hug, and closed the door after himself. Unspoken words caught in Harry's throat and he was left standing in the hallway hugging Isabella tightly to his chest, trying and failing to breathe in air that wouldn't come.

Harry guessed they left on good terms. He didn't know anymore.

Harry never got used to sleeping alone since the first night Louis crawled in, Louis' face nuzzled on the back of Harry's neck, his arm wound protectively around him. It only made sense for Harry and Ed to pick up where they left off and invite Ed to stay with him.

After long nights of talking it out, Ed agreed and held onto Harry tighter. Ed told Harry he never wanted to lose him again. Harry imagined they were Louis' words and let Ed kiss him. It was strange. Harry was no longer sleeping alone or cooking for one, yet he still felt more alone than ever.

It wasn't as if Louis completely disappeared from Harry's and Isabella's lives. Louis came down on Fridays to have Isabella for the weekends, determined to still be present in her life. The first time Harry saw Louis again, he wanted to slap him and then kiss him senseless afterwards, ready to soothe his red cheek and hold him tightly. Instead, he told him hello and handed Isabella over to him with a haversack filled with nappies, toys and other necessities.

Life went on.

Friday rolled around lazily. Freshly baked blueberry muffins popped out of the oven, the tops warm and golden. Harry wiped his hands on his apron, smiling when Ed came in holding Isabella. His beauty never wore off, but Harry was no longer daydreaming about him. He had Ed for real this time. Ed seated Isabella in the high chair, kissing Harry warmly.

"I'm coming, Bella. I'm coming, honey. Hold on."

Harry walked over, scooting a chair closer to Isabella's high chair. He broke off a piece of warm muffin and fed it to her, Isabella humming contently and opening her mouth for more. He kind of missed the days when she would reject his cooking, the days when Louis would roam the kitchen, sneakily stealing bites of Harry's cooking and blaming it on Isabella's doing.

"Good morning, Miss Bella. I missed you. You slept so good last night. Can you say apple? Apple? Banana?" Harry snorted, looking over to Ed. "Why do I always sound like one of those dumb yellow minions when I do that? Ba-na-na."

Ed smiled at Harry, rubbing his hands together and taking a sip of tea. He swallowed around a mouthful and said, "Alright, I'd love to sit and eat, but I've got the Fender twins coming in this morning and even if I'm a minute late, they will redecorate my waiting room.  _Again_."

"I'll see you later?" Ed asked hopefully, kissing Harry again.

"Mm-hmm," Harry hummed contently against Ed's closed lips. He pulled away and handed Ed a muffin. "Wait, take a muffin."

"Thanks. Bye, Bella." Ed bent low to kiss Isabella on her head, waving at Harry. "Bye."

"Bye," Harry repeated.

Things were good with Ed. Ed was safe. Stable. Harry needed that. What he didn't need was someone to walk out when things started to get hard. Louis was unpredictable. Although Harry loved the rush of not knowing what came next, a thrill, an adventure, he didn't need that. He didn't  _want_ that. Being with Louis was like walking on a precipice, ready to fall at any given moment. Being with Ed was sitting at home drinking tea and watching programs on the telly. Harry needed someone to stay with him through the good and the bad and Louis was not that even though Harry wanted him to be. So Harry chose Ed.

Later in the evening, Harry contemplated what to make for Thanksgiving dinner. Maybe some cream cheese mashed potatoes with cooked sausages and a roasted turkey. Maybe add some cranberry sauce to the mix. Harry juggled the endless possibilities in his head while he packaged a turkey, apple-butter and arugula grilled cheese sandwich to the lady at the counter. She handed over a few notes to him, Harry murmuring his thanks. She smiled warmly at him. As she walked out of Fraiché's, a man opened the door for her.

It was maddening how Harry's heart beat an instant staccato rhythm in his chest when he realized it was Louis.  _Always the perfect gentleman._ Harry let himself stare for a bit too long out of the normalcy, admiring Louis openly. Louis looked like a modern-day James Dean dressed in a classic jacket paired with a simple white tee and cuffed blue jeans. The green of his tennis shoes didn't match the brown of his jacket but he still pulled it off. Louis looked gorgeous. His hair was styled to the right, his fringe tossed delicately over his right eye. His hair was getting longer. It was amazing how much he changed over the course of a few months.

James walked from the kitchen carrying Isabella in his arms. He lowered her to the floor when he saw Louis walk in, Isabella laughing excitedly and running towards Louis at full speed. Louis flung her in the air, Isabella giggling and patting his cheeks.

"Ah, look at you. My goodness. You're getting so big," Louis cooed.

"She's huge, right?" Harry said from behind the counter.

"Pictures doesn't do her justice." Louis bopped Isabella playfully on the nose, smiling when Isabella gurgled happily in response.  _God, he had missed her._  "Tommo? Did you say Tommo?"

"Good luck with that."

Harry walked around the counter to retrieve Isabella's haversack that Louis took for the weekend.

"Still no Harry, huh?"

"Nope. Know what it's like to be outranked by cup, pool and giraffe?"

Louis smirked, the skin beside his eyes crinkling. Harry missed running his thumb over the lines and soothing them out. He especially missed being the reason for them. He pushed all of his remembered electric thoughts to the back of his head and handed the haversack to Louis over the counter.

"So we are all set for Monday. Eleanor actually brought the whole schedule."

"So you really did kill the expansion, huh?" Louis looked around Fraiché, noticing the patched up wall from where they were remodeling it into a chain restaurant. He genuinely sounded apologetic when he murmured, "That's too bad."

Harry shrugged his shoulders, unaffected. "Yeah. We were like this before and we were fine."

"Alright. You ready?" Louis whispered to Isabella, looking up and waving at Harry. "See ya."

Harry smiled in return, waggling his fingers in a little wave. "Have fun."

Harry watched Louis carry Isabella with a fond expression. He took a deep breath, calling out, "Hey, Tommo?" before he changed his mind. Louis turned around and faced him with a curious look.

"I don't know if you have any plans or not, but, well, Ed and I are hosting a Thanksgiving dinner and the neighbors are gonna be there. The lads, they keep asking about you, so I don't know if maybe you wanna join us."

Harry compressed his lips together, acting as if Louis coming back into his house was no big deal.

_(_ _It was all he could think about.)_

"Yeah, what the hell?" Louis smiled easily, his cool blue eyes brightening up in excitement. "You're cooking?"

"Yes."

"Alright. I'll see you there."

"Great."

Harry smiled again, this time more genuine and relaxed. He felt his cheeks warm up with exhilaration.

"Say good bye," Louis whispered to Isabella, who was looking over his shoulder with sparkling eyes.

Isabella waved good bye, Harry smiling bigger and waving back.

Louis was coming home again. At least for a day. Harry suppressed the huge smile threatening to break out over his face, settling for playing with the rings looped around his fingers. He wanted Louis to see that he was doing fine without him, that he could live a happy life without him. He tapped his knuckles on the countertop and walked to the cash register, looking forward to Thanksgiving dinner.

A few hours later, Harry was in the kitchen preparing mashed potatoes, green beans and a golden turkey for dinner. He was all over the place, tasting each meal and cooking it to perfection whether that meant adding different spices or cooking the turkey in the oven for a few more minutes. Right now, he was adding nutmeg to a bowl of Fettuccine Alfredo sauce, his special recipe. He was perched on top of the kitchen island, mixing the sauce and lifting up the spoon for Ed to taste.

"Mmm," Ed hummed.

"You think? Do you think it needs more nutmeg?"

Ed pouted his lips, remaining silent.

"You're no help." Harry shook his head, amused.

At the sound of the doorbell, Harry hopped off the kitchen island and kissed Ed's cheek in passing.

"I'll get it."

Harry flattened his hand over his Gucci camp-collared printed silk-twill shirt and ruffled his hair. He walked to the door, his shiny black Saint Laurent boots clicking on the floor. He opened it to reveal none other than Louis Tomlinson.

"Hey," Harry greeted, his voice soft.

"Hi," Louis replied just as quietly.

Louis was wearing an open H&M blue denim shirt, unbuttoned to show off his basic grey t-shirt underneath. His black skinny jeans clung to his hips, fitting him like a second skin on his perfect curves. Harry eyed him up and down, noticing Louis' little feet were stuffed in scuffed marathon 85 Adidas. He smiled at the floor. Some things never changed.

"Happy Thanksgiving."

"You too."

Louis revealed his hand from behind his back, presenting Harry cheap red wine he probably snagged from Tesco as a last minute run.

"I got you a little wine."

"Thanks."

"Nine bucks."

"Wow."

They stood in silence for a few seconds, simply staring at each other. Harry drinked Louis in. He committed every little detail to memory; the way Louis gesticulated with his hands when he spoke, the crinkles by his eyes and his sharp, slightly red curved mouth. He was memorizing every expression, slope and wave. This might be the last time he would see him in this house and so he had to remember him one last time. Louis would burn at the back of Harry's eyelids whenever he couldn't fall sleep. There were a lot of those sleepless nights.

"Where's Bella?" Louis finally asked, avoiding Harry's curious, calculating eyes.

"She's back here."

Their small talk was cut short, a chorus of, "Hey's," and, "Hi's," coming from the nextdoor neighbors, overjoyed at seeing Louis was back in town. Louis waved at them, sending them a polite smile. Harry swore he saw Luke almost faint at the small gesture.

After Harry introduced Louis to a couple of new faces in town, he left him with the neighbors, promises of coming back with a nice hot meal when he would see him again. That was how Louis was enraptured in a pleasant conversation with the neighbors, all of the men sipping cold beers and talking amongst themselves.

"So what else you maniacs have been up to?" Louis asked, faking interest.

"Did I tell you that Ashton and I are taking a couple's karate class?" Luke supplied, the men humming along. "I just figured I'm not gonna be around to defend him all the time, you know? Toughen him up."

"What a great opportunity to kick your spouse in the face once in a while in a controlled setting where it's okay and it's expected," Alex commented shamelessly.

Louis frowned, a little bit worried for Alex's wife's, Perrie, well-being. He heard a mellow voice say, "Tommo," and turned around just in time to see Ed taking out his hand for a polite handshake.

"Hey. How you doing, Doc?" Louis smiled tightly.

Louis heard Ed and Harry were now a thing, apparently. Funny how quickly Harry jumped back into dating Ed the minute Louis walked out that door.

"Good. Glad you could make it."

"Appreciate that. Although technically this is  _my_  house so I'm glad you could make it," Louis joked, trying to relieve the obvious tension in the room.

"I know this is a little weird," Ed said honestly.

"No, s'not weird."

"It's a little weird," Jed countered from the back of the crowd.

"The house, we're all a part of it, especially you," Ed said kindly.

"Yup." Louis bit his cheek, suddenly feeling out of place with Ed around. "We're all big fans of the house."

"Hey. Dinner today is a great way for us to say good bye, right?" Jed supplied.

Louis stared at the curious faces surrounding him. His eyebrows pinched together, his mouth parting around a confused breath. He scratched the back of his head, utterly lost.

"I'm sorry, am I missing something?"

Once the neighbors filled him in on the situation, Louis stomped angrily into the kitchen to confront Harry. Harry was selling the house. No, he was selling  _Louis'_  house. Louis had as much of a right over this property as much as Harry did. Harry hadn't cared to mention this piece of vital information to Louis and had left him in the dark, absolutely clueless. Louis' cheeks heated, his whole body flushed with anger and frustration.

Louis flung open the doors to the kitchen, raising his voice to shout, "You're selling the house? When were you gonna tell me about this?"

Harry sighed, the line of his shoulders tensing up. He carried a bowl of macaroni and cheese to the table decked out in unimaginable foods.

"After our meeting with CPS. It's just too big, Tommo. The upkeep's a fortune, you know that."

"I'm paying my half!" Louis bickered.

"I appreciate that, but it's still not enough."

"You should have asked me, Harry."

Harry walked back to the kitchen, scoffing, "Oh, like you asked me about moving to Phoenix?"

"You're not selling the house," Louis said with finality.

"Yes, I am."

"They wanted for her to grow up here," Louis reminded Harry, growing desperate.

"What they wanted was for you and I to raise her together, but  _you_  walked away from that obligation."

"Well, you sure didn't waste any time finding somebody else to hold the nappy bag, did you?"

The words stung. They were like small shards of sharp glass cutting Harry's skin open. Harry had to give him credit because Louis always found a way to hurt him even when he was gone. Even when he wasn't Harry's.

"Really? Are you going to try and make  _me_  feel bad because  _you_  walked away?" Harry fought back, his eyebrows furrowing together.

"Are you forgetting that you wanted to do it all on your own, but you never could have done it without me. That's why ten seconds after I was gone, you found yourself replacement Tommo!"

Harry looked down, murmuring incoherent curses under his breath and shaking his head furiously.  _No._ Louis was wrong. Ed was not a rebound because how could he be when he was kinder and gentler? How could Ed be a mistake when after Harry would come he would tightly hold him and tell him he loved him? Last time Harry checked, Louis never did any of those things. All Louis was made up of was false promises whispered in the dark.

"He is not replacement Tommo!" Harry yelled angrily, the dam breaking at last.

Harry's cheeks flushed, sweat matting his curls to his forehead. He slammed his fists on the table, all the pent up anger that had been building up throughout the weeks were now finally boiling over.

"You know what? He is nothing like you! Ed is  _nothing_  like you. He is warm and kind and he doesn't run away at the first sign of something real!"

"Yeah, I ran! My best friend died and overnight I had a house and a baby. I'm sorry if, if—"

"If what!" Harry shouted louder.

"I was scared!" Louis defended.

"You don't think I was scared?" Harry answered shakily, his eyes close to spilling tears.

"It was easier for you, Harry! You wanted this...you wanted the life that they had," Louis justified.

Louis' cheeks were painted a pretty pink, his eyes watery and bluer than ever. Even when he was close to tears, Louis was the most beautiful thing Harry ever saw. Ed had nothing on him.

"But not the way I got it!" Harry cried out, his vulnerable voice breaking. "Jesus...not the way I got it. And certainly not with somebody who didn't love me back!"

"But I did!" Louis sounded like it hurt. He swallowed hard. He looked Harry in his eyes and into his soul, his own red-rimmed and blurry with tears. His chin wobbled as he quietly confessed, "Harry, I still do."

The silence between them didn't sound quiet at all when Louis could only hear his own heartbeat in his ears.

Harry exhaled shaky breaths. He felt like he couldn't breathe. He carried a dirty bowl to the sink and dropped it in a loud clatter. His shoulders hunched forward, a constant weight pressing on his chest. An uncomfortable knot formed at the back of his throat, causing his words to come out broken and jumbled together.

"No, you're right. We were just...we were just pretending to be them because we needed each other to get through everything and now that's done and we don't need to pretend anymore, Tommo,  _okay?_  I don't want to fight with you, please," Harry begged quietly, weakly.

All the fight was drained out of Harry. Louis nodded, his face scrunched up in worry. He sniffed and ran a hand stiffly through his hair.

Louis' voice was trembling when he rushed out to say, "I'm gonna go back to Phoenix. You can handle Eleanor on your own. Looks like you got things covered here without me."

Louis stared at Harry's back, silently begging Harry to look at him because it was the last time he was going to see him. But Harry didn't move and Louis took that as his answer. And when no response from Harry came, Louis nodded at himself and walked away resolutely. So that was it. That was their ending. It made sense for Louis to give up on them because love had never worked out for him before. Louis always ended up hurt in the end.

Louis sucked his bottom lip into his mouth and walked out of the kitchen, finding all of the neighbors crowded around the long dining table, shuffling awkwardly on their feet and looking guilty for eavesdropping on a private conversation.

"Happy Thanksgiving everyone," Louis muttered, trying and failing to keep his voice unaffected. "It's great to see you all. If you're ever in Phoenix, don't be afraid to look me up."

The nextdoor neighbors looked at Louis in pity. Louis nodded again and went to pick up Isabella. He willed himself to not let any hot tears spill from his eyes as he sniffled and kissed Isabella's head. As if she knew about their broken family, Isabella started crying too. Louis hugged her tighter to his chest, his heart aching for her. He wished desperately that it didn't have to be this way. He knew better though. Anything that involved him ended in misery.

Louis placed Isabella back down in her playpen, Isabella wailing and reaching out for him again. He forced himself not to pick her up one more time. Instead, he uttered his last good byes and walked out through the door for the final time. He supposed he was saying his last good bye to their life and their house. A house that no longer felt like home.

Harry walked into the dining room with a beautifully golden turkey. He placed the main course on the table with the rest of the delicacies.

With a badly contained sniffle, Harry announced, "Okay, dinner is served. You guys should try the stuffing, it's really...it's amazing. There's an Andouille sausage thing going on. You'll love it. Go ahead and dig in." Nobody moved a muscle. "C'mon, everybody..."

When no one made any indication to move, Harry slammed his hand on the table, his voice pitching high.

"Eat. Now!"

The neighbors obliged quickly, passing around plates and cutlery. There was a murmur amongst them, prongs hitting the ceramic plates and the tinkling of glasses filled with Louis' red wine clicking against each other.

Harry stood at the end of the long table, his hands clasped in front of him. Ed brushed past Harry, not even offering him a glance. Harry sighed and dropped his head low, his mum rubbing his shoulder, a present warmth he needed at the moment. He never envisioned for the night to go this way.

When afternoon turned into night, Harry walked the neighbors to the door one by one. The weight of Louis' and his fight seemed to get heavier by the hour.

"Thanks for coming. Bye," Harry called out, closing the door after the last guest.

Harry turned around to see Ed sitting down on the couch.

"Yeah, okay. That was bad," Harry admitted cautiously, gnawing on his bottom lip nervously.

"Maybe we did go too fast," Ed treaded lightly. "You clearly have unresolved feelings for him, Harry."

"Tommo and I bearly got along under the best of circumstances and there weren't many of those either," Harry argued, crossing his arms against his slowly breathing chest.

Harry leaned against the doorframe, his body going tense with nerves.

"If my wife and I fought like that, we'd still be married," Ed replied softly.

"You know, before anything happened to Zayn and Liam, you were exactly the guy I wanted to be with. I would lose time thinking about you and I didn't even know your name yet," Harry confessed.

Ed sighed like it pained him to even breathe. "I'll miss you guys."

Ed kissed Harry's forehead, his lips pressing to Harry's skin before he moved away. Harry held onto Ed's hand a little tighter. He didn't fight it. He just...let go fully knowing if he did, Ed wasn't going to come back into their lives. He watched Ed walk through the front door and didn't stop him.

Harry swallowed past the fear that maybe he would never find a home, never be happily dating someone or get happily married, never build a home. He shut off the lights, leaving the mess for tomorrow and climbed upstairs carrying Isabella.

Harry discarded his shoes under the bed  _(another bad habit he learned from Louis and couldn't unlearn)_ and tucked himself into bed with Isabella. He dimmed the lights and pulled out Isabella's favorite book about monsters. He thumbed the pages to where Louis left off, the page dog-eared at one corner.

"Leonardo was a terrible monster," Harry read. He smiled, flipping the yellow weathered page. "He couldn't scare anyone. He didn't have one thousand six hundred and forty two—"

"Daddy."

Harry looked down to Isabella, who was watching him curiously, her big, gorgeous brown eyes blinking up at him like two twinkling stars.

Harry gaped, his mouth parting open to correct her, "No. Harry." He pointed to the center of his chest. "No, I'm  _Harry_."

"Daddy," Isabella repeated, gurgling bubbles of spit.

"Yeah, baby girl." Harry clutched a hand to his chest, touched. He sniffled, the waterworks beginning again but this time for completely different reasons. They were happy tears. "I'm your daddy."

Harry pressed a kiss to Isabella's head, a tear rolling down his cheek to land on her soft hair. He wanted to run and ring Louis the good news, but then he remembered with a constant guilt that he couldn't.

Harry cried quietly for the rest of the night until he fell asleep with Isabella cradled to his chest.


	16. But Darling, Stay With Me

* * *

"Truth is, you know, sometimes it works better with one person doing everything, you know? No charts, no arguments. I know it's not ideal, but since when do parents get the ideal, right?"

Eleanor nodded, pointing a finger to Harry to convey her agreement. It was Harry's last meeting with CPS before Eleanor decided if he was a good fit for Isabella or not. If he wasn't, then they would take Isabella away to a family that wanted her. However, Harry had a good feeling about how the meeting was going.

Harry hunched over and poked Isabella's cheek, murmuring, "Right? Right, pretty girl?"

Isabella blew bubbles of spit out of her gurgling mouth. Her eyes shone in awe as she pointed to something above Harry's head. Harry followed her finger, craning up his neck and his eyes landing on a familiar picture frame. It was a picture of Louis and Harry at Isabella's first birthday party. Their smiles looked genuine and it wasn't until now that Harry realized Louis had his arm looped around him. They looked like a real family. A  _happy_  family.

The realization settled beneath Harry's watering eyes.

"I'm sorry. I can't do this. This..." Harry breathed out slowly, taking a moment to process his running thoughts. "This isn't right."

Harry knew what he was about to do was a risk and would jeopardize his CPS meeting with Eleanor, yet he didn't care. He picked up Isabella and hugged her close to his chest.

"Is there a problem?" Eleanor asked, taken aback by Harry's sudden response to leave.

"Uh, yeah," Harry said, rushing to gather his things and tuck Isabella's shoes on her feet. "I'm an idiot. I gotta reschedule." He ran towards the front door, waving at Eleanor and pasting on a hasty smile. He apologized, "I'm sorry, I need to get to the airport," as he closed the door behind himself.

"What?" Eleanor was left fish-mouthing, her lips pursed in astonishment.

Eleanor quickly followed Harry to the Honda, watching helplessly as Harry buckled Isabella into her car seat. She sat in the passenger's seat in spite of Harry's many protests. Harry drove onto the highway effortlessly despite being distracted by his phone.

Harry dialed Louis' number and desperately murmured, "C'mon, pick up, pick up, pick up."

"Hey, this is Tommo. Leave me something dirty."

Harry groaned, catching Eleanor looking at him from his peripheral vision. He felt slightly uncomfortable having Eleanor in the SUV. He never imagined Eleanor would be the one sitting next to him on his mission to declare his profound love to Louis at the airport. He was not about to let a shitty ending ruin their epic romance.

"You know, I could've come back for you," Harry suggested.

"Well, this is our last meeting. I'm booked up for the next month. One way or another, we're finishing it."

_Yeah, they were definitely finishing this._

"Okay."

"If you wanna get there quickly, you might wanna drive faster than the other cars," Eleanor advised.

Harry frowned, looking at Eleanor from the corner of his eye and bewilderedly saying, "But you're observing me."

"I'm observing you miss the flight so move it!" Eleanor shouted.

"Okay!"

Harry pressed his foot on the gas pedal and zipped past the other cars on the highway, passing the terminal airport exit sign. He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, praying that Louis was still seated on the waiting chairs. As he imagined, Louis was.

Louis' right leg was propped over his lap along with his laptop. He was skimming his eyes over the Suns roster, closing the tab and opening a home video. Ever since Louis and Harry saw Liam's and Zayn's home video, they decided to make some of their own. They wanted to record every milestone in their lives with Isabella.

Louis popped in his earbuds, clicking on Roberta Flack's  _Hey That's No Way To Say Goodbye_. He double clicked on a home video titled  **Isabella's First Steps**. A video popped up with Isabella dressed in only her nappies, walking clumsily around the house. The camera shifted over to where Harry was sprawled on the floor, his eyes glistening with pride.

"July twenty-two, two-thousand sixteenth. Isabella's first steps," Harry cheered, offering the camera a thumbs up. "Hey Bella, come back. Yay!"

Harry clapped his hands excitedly, laughing gleefully.  _He was beautiful._ The camera caught a glimpse of Isabella running in her Adidas sneakers, getting the hang of this whole walking thing. The camera zoomed in on Harry's face, taking up most of the screen. Harry's smile was bright, blinding, beautiful. Louis smiled at the screen, realizing for the very first time that he had been falling in love with Harry since the start and he didn't even know it.

"You have a beautiful family," an elderly lady sitting next to Louis complimented him.

Louis swallowed past the hard lump in his throat, his eyes springing up with fresh tears.

Louis licked his chapped lips, whispering, "Thank you," with red-rimmed, bleary eyes.

The song continued to play. The lyrics,  _"You_   _know my love goes with you as your love stays with me, it's just the way it changes like the shoreline and the sea,"_ rangtruthfully into Louis' ears. Louis hoped that Harry still felt his love even when he wasn't physically there because he sure as hell felt Harry's. He felt it in the mornings and in the nights and in the spaces between. Harry was everywhere and so was his love.

Harry rushed to the front desk, words spilling out of his mouth like the waves of the sea.

"Hi, I need two tickets that will get me anywhere near Terminal T as fast as possible, please."

"Three," Eleanor added. She smiled at Harry, quickly divulging, "I'm not waiting in the car."

They bought three tickets and ran to the airport security checkpoint where TSA officers were making people place their items into boxes before passing the security screening. Harry took off his coat and shoes and made way to go through the screening when the officer stopped him.

"The baby's shoes too, sir."

"Are you kidding me?" Eleanor interrupted, her expression bordered in astonishment. "They're baby shoes. Just give her to me, go!"

Harry passed Isabella to Eleanor and went through the screening, grabbing his coat, shoes and phone. He jogged and slowed down, looking for Louis' airplane number on the monitors. Once he spotted it, he picked up his pace and jogged faster, looking over his shoulder to see Eleanor walking hurriedly with Isabella tucked to her chest. He reached his destination, his eyes scanning the place. His determination deflated like a wilted ballon once he realized the terminal was closed, no person in sight. He looked to his left through the window and saw Louis' place lifting off.

Harry sighed, bending down and gripping his knees. He blew hot air out of his lips, his eyes stinging with hot tears. He straightened his back and turned around, Eleanor finally catching up to him. Eleanor looked over Harry's shoulder and realized it was too late as well. Her eyes sagged, a pitiful expression playing on her face. Harry shook his head and reached for Isabella, kissing her forehead softly. It was too late.

They drove back home in silence. It wasn't until Harry pulled into the driveway that sobs overtook the interior of the Honda. The sobs grew louder into high-pitched, broken wails. Harry rubbed his closed eyes with the underside of his wrists. He sighed deeply and ran a hand through clumps of hair. He sniffled once. He looked at Isabella thorough the rear-view mirror, a small smile creeping on his face when he saw her hugging her teddy bear to her chest. He drifted his eyes to the right, finding Eleanor sobbing uncontrollably.

Harry's eyebrows knitted together, his voice wary to say, "Um."

"It just...you ran all the way there. I thought when I took Bella it would be okay."

"I know. You did great. You  _did_." Harry nodded, reassuring Eleanor.

Eleanor babbled again, snot coming out of her nose.  _For someone so pretty, she sure did cry ugly_.

"Don't worry about me. I'll be fine, I will, I've got Bella." Harry looked towards the backseat and smiled, Isabella gazing at Eleanor with curious eyes. "Maybe this is the way things were meant to be."

"You're gonna be so unhappy!" Eleanor wailed.

Harry bit his lip, tucking his hand into his coat pocket and retrieving a napkin to hold out to Eleanor. He always had one in case Isabella had dry boogers stuck inside her nose.

"I'm not gonna start crying again," Eleanor cried and undermined her own point at the same time.

"I should get Bella inside," Harry mused.

Eleanor nodded fearfully, letting Harry get out of the Honda and unbuckle Isabella from the car seat.

Eleanor hopped out of the SUV and called out, "You're gonna be a great dad!" when Harry started to walk up the steps to the house.

"Thanks."

"I'll let CPS know you passed," Eleanor said with a little sniffle, her tears leaking on her rosy cheeks. "Chin up."

"Thank you," Harry replied gratefully.

"I'm really sorry that I cried," Eleanor apologized.

"No problem." Harry brushed Eleanor off, opening the door to the house. He pointed at Isabella, shouting aloud, "Used to crying!"

Inside, Harry sighed heavily and placed Isabella in her playpen. He handed Isabella his keys to play with and pinched her cheek, smiling down at her. At least he had her. It would be eighteen years until Isabella would leave him too. Until then, Harry had plenty of time to heal and fall in love again.

Harry brushed a hand through his messy curls, the longer bits curling loosely over his ear. The house was quiet. Harry missed the days when Louis would shout and run around, his banter loud enough for the neighbors to hear.

Harry walked farther into the living room, shouldering off his coat. He nearly had a heart attack when he saw Louis perched on the couch.

"Oh my God, Louis!" Harry shouted, clutching a hand to his chest.

"I didn't mean to scare you," Louis spoke carefully. He stood up, shoving his hands into his jean pockets. For some reason, he looked nervous, his lower lip disappearing into his mouth. "I had my key and I thought you'd be home for Eleanor."

"Louis..." Harry whispered, his eyes softening.

"Look, please don't say anything. Just listen."

Louis offered Harry his palms, coming closer so that they could breathe in the same air.

"I finally figured out why Liam and Zayn picked us. And it's not because we knew them best, it's because you and me together with Isabella, somehow, we're a family like they were. And that's why they picked us."

It was hard to get words out, like Louis' voice wasn't working properly.

"And when I'm gone, I just don't miss her, or you, I miss  _us_. I miss our family. And I know that we got it all backwards and that you're supposed to meet somebody, then fall in love, then have a baby, but frankly I don't care...I don't care how it happened, Harry, because I fell in love with you," Louis paused, his eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "I fell in love with our family."

For the first time in his life, Harry was rendered speechless. Usually Harry had stories to tell and secrets to share, drawling out the words to seem more interesting, but right now he felt numb to the core. Louis' confession was better than what Harry had planned to say in his mission to find him. The thing was, Louis was unpredictable,  _sure_ , but he was  _supportive_. He was  _encouraging_. He was  _lovely_. He embodied the word  _love_. His speech was honest. Sincere. It was all that he was and it was more than enough.

He didn't want someone safe or stable, Harry realized, he wanted freedom and adventure. And Harry had that with Louis. That was why they were so good for each other because they balanced each other out. Some days Harry liked to be enthusiastic and carefree and those days Louis liked to be bashful and reserved. They took turns basking in the spotlight.  _And fuck rationality!_ Because even though Louis possessed adventure, energy and unpredictability, he was also safe and secure. Harry felt that with Louis.

Instead of saying any words, Harry was thinking the whole time  _I love you, I love you, I love you, I'm so in love with you._  After months of pretending Harry didn't have any feelings for Louis, he deemed it appropriate to come to the conclusion that he loved him. It was a bold statement and Harry was familiar with the phrase "all or nothing" and felt it fit. Harry loved Louis with every fiber of his being and he wasn't going to let him go anytime soon. Not anymore. Now was forever.

For a lack of better words, Harry quietly said, "Louis, I was at the airport."

Louis' mouth curved into a small smile. He would give up forever to touch Harry again. He came closer, his fingertips brushing Harry's forearm lightly. Everything was white noise to Harry's ears, Louis' touch electric, addicting, maddening in the best of ways.

"Did you plan some kind of trip that I am not aware of?" Louis asked, his voice coy.

"No," Harry replied just as smugly.

"Did you hear me say I love you? Because I can say it again."

"Okay."

"I love you."

Harry laughed, feeling weightless and drifting. He stared at Louis, disbelief stealing the air from his lungs. And then in a jolt of understanding, it whooshed back in, flooding his body with such tremendous joy and happiness he thought he would drown in it.  
In one frantic clip of his heart, Harry swallowed Louis up in his arms and squeezed as if he would never let go again, his deep laughter rumbling against his heart. This was all it took for Louis, who unpinned his hands from his sides and yanked Harry close, his hands finding their place on Harry's waist and his back like they had been dying to land there all day.

When they kissed, Harry felt the same fireworks rumbling inside his stomach, ready to explode. All Louis offered was just a flicker of remembered electricity before he was winding his hand around the back of Harry's neck, pulling him down into another kiss that consumed them both. Harry laughed against Louis' mouth, Louis smiling against Harry's lips. They were too intoxicated with the feeling to deepen their kiss, but that was okay.

They had each other. For real this time. That was all that mattered.

 **WINTER**  
They were celebrating Isabella's two year birthday party. The nextdoor neighbors gathered together at their house once again,  _(when Louis came back, everybody was utterly thrilled and decided to pitch in money to help them save the house although Harry had a strong belief they did it for Shirtless Louis jogging in the mornings)_  and the atmosphere was filled with love and cheer.

Louis greeted all of their guests, offering them beer and cookies in passing. He carried Isabella in his arms and flung her high in the air, Isabella's cheeks spreading into a joyous smile. He walked into the kitchen, watching Harry flit around like a busy bee and add the last touches to Isabella's splendid birthday cake.

"Hey, Bella has a request for the caterer," Louis said, his eyes crinkling in a smile.

"Cake! Do you like cake?" Harry cooed, kissing Isabella on the cheek.

Louis made an, "Ah," sound at the sight of the birthday cake. It was a pink and elegant giant cupcake with little beads of pink and white adorning the light pink frosting. Harry placed the last lit candle on top, carrying the large cupcake over to the rest of the cupcakes.

"It's simple. It's understated," Louis commented sarcastically.

"Yeah. You know me, it's how I role. Simple. Understated."

Harry shrugged his shoulder, laughing brightly.

"Now you're never gonna get any easier now, are you?"

"Nope. And I have another one."

Harry lifted the white carton box to reveal a fancy baby blue cake, the number one frosted carefully on top. He smiled proudly, his left dimple making an appearance. Louis poked Harry's dimple curiously.

"She's two," Louis said, utterly confused.

"It's for us 'cause we made it a year," Harry supplied.

Louis made a cooing sound and humored him, making Harry giggle and earning him a sweet kiss on the lips. Harry tasted like frosting. Louis had a strong suspicion that Harry was stealing finger licks from the giant cupcake.

"Okay, baby. Ready?" Harry asked cheerfully, lifting up the cupcake along with the rest of the mini cupcakes.

"Hold on, let me go get Baby Jack."

Louis hurried over to the living room and towards Anne, kissing Anne's cheek in thanks and grabbing Jack, Louis' and Harry's adopted one-year-old, from her protective hands. He propped Jack on his hips and walked back to the warmly lit kitchen. He was surprised when Harry licked his nose and left a dollop of pink icing smeared on the tip of his upturned, button nose.

"Is there are any leftover icing?"

Harry answered, "Yeah. Why?" confusedly.

Louis brushed the icing away with the back of his hand, sending Harry a wink and licking his lips. He covered Jack's ears with his cupped hands.

"Because I want to smear pink icing over your tight pink hole and plunge my tongue inside of your arse until you're crying and coming on your chest."

Louis blushed in pride when he saw Harry's cheeks pinked and his eyelashes swaying slowly. He didn't miss how Harry fixed his growing cock over his jeans discreetly. He relished in the happy, little, "Hey!" that spilled from Harry's mouth when he slapped his perky arse to remind him  _later_.

"Here we go, Bella."

Louis raised the camera and started to record, filming Harry's profile and the mini cakes. They walked slowly into the living room where everybody was gathered together. They all formed a circle, adults and children alike singing, "Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday, dear Isabella. Happy birthday to you...."

Even though it was Isabella's birthday party and all the attention should be given to her, Louis found himself staring fondly at Harry for the remainder of the night. Louis was struck by Harry's beauty at the oddest of times. Like right now, Louis admiring how the lit candles were flickering in Harry's eyes and making the green a bright goldenrod color. Or in the mornings when they would brush their teeth together in the small cramped bathroom and Harry looked beautiful with a smidgen of toothpaste catching in the light at the corner of his mouth. Louis would always lick it away. He was starting to think Harry was doing it on purpose now.

Louis loved Harry, all of him, for how Harry's laugh would crawl beneath his skin and into his soul, and he loved Harry, all of him, for how Harry's fingertips would glide over his skin and left trails of sunflowers to grow, and he loved Harry, all of him, for how he swallowed him whole and made sense of all his bones. But most of all, he loved Harry, all of him, for healing all of his broken pieces and making this feel like home.

Louis watched Harry sleep the first night they were back together, thinking back to Roberta Flack's  _Hey That's No Way To Say Goodbye_  and realizing how her lyrics fit perfectly to how he felt about Harry.

Louis rolled over on his side of the bed and carded his fingers through Harry's sweaty curls, his stray locks of hair looking like a sleepy, golden storm. He admired Harry's slackened face and ran his thumb along the cushion of Harry's lower lip.

In the darkness, Louis' phone glowed. Louis played another hit song from Roberta Flack, listening to her soft voice bellow out beautiful, fitting lyrics.

_The first time, ever I saw your face_

_I thought the sun rose in your eyes_

_And the moon and the stars_

_Were the gifts you gave_

_To the dark, and the endless skies_

_My Love_

_And the first time, ever I kissed your mouth_

_I felt the earth move in my hand_

_Like the trembling heart_

_Of a captive bird_

_That was there, at my command_

_My Love_

The little one with the cheekbones had rejoined the prince. All was right in the world.


End file.
